


La Linea Scura

by TheKidFromYesterday



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, I killed May :(, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Parent Tony Stark, Platonic Cuddling, Sad Peter Parker, Slow Burn, Tags to be added, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, but it has a bunch of hurt/comfort bc i'm a big softie, i'm a big fan of Pepper and so it Tony he's so in love with her, nothing happens tho it's just mentioned, some violence (briefly mentioned), they both need a hug most of the time, this is gonna get real sad before it gets happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 64,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22183549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKidFromYesterday/pseuds/TheKidFromYesterday
Summary: “We’ve already contacted your emergency guardian.”  The social worker continued, stepping into the room. “Mr. Stark should be here soon.”Again, Peter nodded, numb.  Then stopped.“I’m sorry,” his voice was worn out and tired. “Mr. Stark?”OrTony has to learn how to be a parent real fast
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 681
Kudos: 1512





	1. Chapter 1

She was dead. She was dead and gone and lost and he was alone.

Still in a sort of shock, Peter Parker sat beside the hospital bed where his aunt lay. She was so still. Silent. He sat on the uncomfortable chair beside the bed, his hands folded neatly in his lap, trapped in the fear of touching her. She was cold. He knew that. But he didn’t think he’d be able to handle it if it was a solidified fact.

“Mr. Parker?”

Slowly, he looked up. Vaguely, he thought that he must be deep into shock, as his spidey sense had done nothing to warn him to the lady’s presence right outside the door.

“I’m Mary Wiles. I’m a social worker. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

He nodded, his eyes going back down to watch his aunt’s hand where it lay against the sheets. It wasn’t moving and it never would again, but that didn’t stop him from willing it to. Willing her to take a breath or move her fingers or open her eyes.

“We’ve already contacted your emergency guardian.” The social worker continued, stepping into the room. “Mr. Stark should be here soon.”

Again, Peter nodded, numb. Then stopped.

“I’m sorry,” his voice sounded worn out and tired. And then: “Mr. Stark?”

The woman nodded. “Yes, he’ll be here very soon.” 

Why would they contact Mr. Stark over this? A cold fear gripped his insides as his mind wandered. Was he going to take away his suit? Take away Spiderman? Of course, Peter wouldn’t be able to handle being a hero, not after this. Was he going to be kicked off the team? Well, not that he was technically on the team, to begin with. But without Spiderman, Peter was nothing. He was a scared kid in the city and that was it. 

A strangled noise made its way out of his throat and his eyes lifted to where the woman stood, but she had already gone. Desperately, his hands covered one of May’s, gripping tight and begging, praying, for some sort of response from her. 

“Please, May, please, wake up, wake up,” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, “Please, don’t leave me alone——”

Because that’s really what he was now. Alone. First his parents, then Ben, and now her? Peter was truly alone.

A deep fear came along with that realization, chilling his bones and making his throat close up in a slight panic. Alone, alone alone——

Where was he going to go? What was he going to do? He was a barely 16-year-old kid in Queens with no sort of steady income—it wasn’t like being Spiderman really paid the bills——and nowhere to live.

“May,” he gasped out, not even bothering to wipe the tears that ran down his face. “Please——”

His hands shook as they held hers, his vision swimming from clear to blurry, back and forth until he was almost dizzy. He was filled with energy, buzzing with it, overwhelmed and in a panic. 

His heightened senses were in overdrive, trying to process all the new information that was being thrown at him and it was building up inside him until he felt like he could burst. Grief and pain and anger and overwhelming fear seemed like the only thing in his world. That, and the body of his last living relative that lay in front of him.

“Peter.”

At the sound of the familiar voice, Peter jerked upright from where he had hunched over the edge of the bed, his hands coming up to wipe tears away. “Mr. Stark.” Despite being informed that he was coming, seeing the billionaire standing in the doorway of the hospital room with his three piece suit was shocking. “What are——”

“Hospital called me.” The man said. He didn’t move from the doorway. He looked reluctant to enter the room. “Said there was an accident.”

Peter nodded, still trying to process the overload of information. 

“Are you okay?”

Okay. Was he okay? No. Peter was quite sure that ‘okay’ was a word that would never apply to him again. 

He shook his head, miserable.

But then Mr. Stark, the billionaire and genius and inventor and superhero, was crossing the room and pulling Peter away from the bed and into a tight hug.

Peter gasped, his hands coming up to grip the front of the fancy suit in a hold that would probably ruin the nice fabric, his movements desperate to just get closer to the reassurance. Mr. Stark’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, cradling the back of Peter’s head to him as his fingers ran through his no doubt dirty and messy hair.

“I got you, kid.”

Peter burrowed closer. The tears came back reinforced, shaking his entire figure and forcing the breath from his lungs so that he had to gasp to keep from passing out. Eyes squeezed shut, his mind screaming in fear and pain, Peter held on to his hero for dear life.

*****

Tony wasn’t sure how long they stood there, wrapped up in each other’s arms with Peter sobbing against his suit. His heart ached. 

The call had come through just as his plane had landed——an urgent alert, according to Friday——putting Tony in a slightly worse mood than he’d been in on the plane. Long flights with no sleep were never fun.

To be honest, he didn’t really remember much about the contents of the call. Once he heard the words ‘Peter Parker’ and ‘Hospital’ and ‘Urgent’, he hadn’t even wasted time getting a car to drive him there. His suit was pulled out of its case and he was gone from the airport only seconds after he had hung up. It was on the way over that Friday had informed him what had happened—— a hit and run outside the movie theater, the attempts to resuscitate, the DOA to the hospital.

The alert that he was now the sole guardian of one Peter Parker.

By the time he landed at the hospital, Tony had worked himself back into a decent human person, at least enough to make sure he looked like a suitable guardian to Peter. He had held himself together as he told the nurses who he was and who he was there for and even thanked the star-struck looking Doctor who showed him to the room where Peter waited.

But once he saw the kid himself, Tony had almost broken. Peter looked so young sitting there, curled over his dead aunt with his shoulders shaking in silent sobs that sent a shock of pain right through Tony Stark’s heart. 

And now. Now with the kid in his arms, his mind coming up blank as to ways of comforting him, Tony felt truly helpless. 

It took a long time for Peter to calm down enough to pull away, but even then he kept his head down, his hands finding each other to fidget. 

“You good?”

Peter nodded, but it was obvious that he wasn’t. He looked down at his aunt, his shoulders still shaking a little as he stood beside her. He didn’t want to let go. So they waited.

Peter stood beside the hospital bed, his head bowed as he slowly calmed down and stopped shaking. He didn’t sit down again, so Tony took the chair. He texted Happy to pick them up, giving him only the barest details and the driver seemed to understand the sensitive subject. A few minutes later, Tony was informed that Happy was waiting with a car outside whenever they were ready to leave. And oh, did Tony want to leave. 

He was tired and scared and worried, but he figured none of that mattered in the face of Peter’s problems. He didn’t mention that Happy was there, not wanting the kid to feel like he was being rushed in saying goodbye. 

It seemed like hours later that Peter moved again. He stepped back and brushed his hand against Tony’s shoulder. “I want to leave.”

“Okay.” Was the simple response. He put what he hoped was a reassuring arm around the teenager’s shoulders and steered him towards the door. No-one stopped them on the way out and Peter kept his head down and his eyes on the floor the entire time. He didn’t look up until they were out of the building and a car pulled up beside them, Happy watching them grimly from the driver’s window.

Peter got in the car with barely a glance up at the driver, settling in against the window as Tony climbed in next to him.  
“Happy, let's go home.”

“You got it, Boss.”  
*****  
Peter knew he should be paying attention, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull back into the world around him. 

His head leaned against the cool glass of the window and his arms were wrapped tight around himself like he was physically holding himself together. Tony sat beside him but had made no attempts to move any closer and he was keeping up a steady conversation with Happy about something Peter couldn’t quite bring himself to care about. Their conversation was quiet and it faded into a faint buzz in the back of Peter’s mind, a constant noise that lay under the riot of his feelings.

He didn’t even know where they were going. A glance out the window showed a countryside and an empty road, but nothing looked familiar. Somehow, he found that he really didn’t care where they were going or what was going to happen to him. The fear that had taken over his mind in the hospital had dissipated, leaving him feeling cold and empty. He really did feel empty. He felt like someone had gone in a pulled all his important insides out and he had left them behind at that hospital.

Where he had left Aunt May.

An involuntary shiver went through him and he saw out of the corner of his eye, Tony watching him with a frown. “You cold?”

Peter shook his head.

“We’re almost there, kiddo.”

A nod. He didn’t know where there was. Right now all he wanted was a bed to sleep in and to maybe just never wake up again.

That was a new thought. And a scary one. He didn’t want to die. 

Did he?

He’d unpack that exchange later. He just needed time to himself to breathe for a while. Figure everything out. Then he’d be okay.

The car stopped and he picked his head up from the window to look outside. For a moment, he stared at the giant A on the side of the building, knowing exactly where he was but also not quite believing it.

“Come on kid, I’ll show you around.” Tony reached over Peter and opened the door for him before getting out on his own side, “Happy, park the car. Thanks for the ride.”

Happy nodded and sent Peter a sympathetic look before he climbed out of the car. 

Great. Sympathy looks. He and Happy didn’t always get along, mostly because Peter figured Happy wasn’t used to dealing with a teenager, but he did like the man. Now it felt wrong seeing him. Now the man knew something about Peter that was personal and scary and all he had to offer was pity. And it fucking stung.

“Peter?”

Peter turned to see Tony watching him with a worried look on his face.

“You okay?”

Peter started to nod, figuring it was easier to just agree than have to spell out the mess of emotions that were taking over his mind, but Tony cut him off.

“That was a stupid question. Sorry.” He looked just as uncomfortable in this new situation as Peter felt, and he had to admit that it was a little reassuring. “What do you want to do?”

What did he want to do? He didn’t know. A part of him wanted to run, literally just run away from the situation. Go back home to Queens. Another part of him desperately hoped that this was all a dream and he would wake up any second to see his Aunt’s face smiling at him as she shook him awake. Maybe he just wanted reassurance. Would Tony hug him again like he had in the hospital room, or was that just a one-time thing?

Oh god, the hospital room. He hadn’t even thought about it before that moment—how he had broken down and cried into his hero’s arms, clung to him like a lost little kid. God, he wanted to go home. Home home, not this place that he had been dreaming of one day visiting since he was a child. He wanted to go home and he wanted his bed and he wanted his aunt and oh god, his vision was blurring. 

“I wanna go to sleep.” He managed out, because at least that wasn’t a lie. He didn’t mention that he wanted his own bed to sleep in. Mr. Stark had already gone through all this trouble toting Peter out to the countryside and he wasn’t going to complain when he literally had nowhere else to go. “I just…I just want to go to sleep.” 

Tony nodded. “Okay kid. Let’s get you to bed.”

And he was back to being numb. He followed Tony through doors and down hallways and through rooms with his eyes staying firmly on the heels of his hero’s shoes. He didn’t look up. He just walked and didn’t think. When they finally got into an elevator, Peter looked up. 

“My room, Friday.” Tony said, his voice surprisingly soft. 

The elevator moved at his command, but Peter couldn’t find it in himself to be impressed. The events of the night and the day before were still fresh in his mind, pressing against him from all sides until he felt like he was being crushed under them. He felt trapped. He hated feeling trapped. It scared him. He didn’t want to have to deal with that on top of——

His panicked thoughts calmed when Tony tossed his arm over Peter’s shoulders again, drawing him a little closer to him as the elevator came to a stop. It was a small gesture, but Peter almost collapsed in relief.

“This is my room.” Tony stepped out of the elevator and Peter was dragged along. “Well. My floor, more like. Penthouse. Everything the light touches and all that shit.” 

It was a nice place, well furnished and clean and modern. 

“I have two guest bedrooms. Come on.” He dragged Peter down one of the hallways where he pushed open a door. There was a bedroom behind it, cold and furnished like it had been meant for no one to ever stay in. “Wait here.” And he was gone.

Peter sat neatly on the edge of the bed, his hands knotted in his shirt. He tugged against it idly, his eyes wandering around the room as he waited for Tony to get back. The weight of the day seemed to be pressing against him, shoving him down until he was lying on the bed with his feet still hanging off it. God. He just wanted to disappear. He wanted to sink into the bed and stay hidden away from everyone and everything forever. 

“You still awake kid?” Tony was acting like Peter was moments away from shattering, which was probably what he looked like. The clothes from the…the accident were still on him and he was pretty sure he smelled like shit after spending so long sitting in a hospital. 

Peter opened his eyes, but offered no otherwise sign that he was awake. He didn’t want to be rude, but he wanted nothing more than to just be left alone. Sure, he loved Tony. He had idolized the man for his entire life and after being able to work with him, his respect for the man had only grown. But he wanted nothing more than to just be left alone.

“I have clothes for you. Figured you didn’t want to wear…that to bed.”

What was wrong with what he was wearing? Peter glanced down to where his hands were still fisted in the cloth of his shirt and…oh. Oh.

Blood soaked the bottom half of the shirt, probably where he had held May against himself before the ambulance———oh god.

Peter barely had the time or energy to throw himself over to the edge of the bed before he threw up, desperately trying to pull the shirt off of himself at the same time. He needed it off, off, off, now.

“Hey, hey,” Tony was at his side, reassuring hand rubbing up and down Peter’s back. “You’re okay, let me help you.” 

“Get it off—” The shirt ripped clean apart where Peter grabbed it, sitting innocently in his hands for only a second before it was thrown hard against the wall. Breaths came hard and fast and his throat burned as he coughed. 

“Woah, okay, it’s okay kid.” Tony had a towel in his hand and was wiping off Peter’s face, his other hand still holding protectively on his shoulder. “You’re okay, you’re going to be okay.”

“Water.” Peter gasped, and then Tony was gone again, leaving only a gentle squeeze on Peter’s shoulder. 

As Tony left the room, Peter rolled back over on the bed to lay on his back. God. He felt like he was slowly falling apart. His eyes squeezed shut to stave off the tears that were forming, although they seemed to be more of frustration than anything else. He just wanted to disappear. 

By the time Tony came back into the room, Peter had managed to sit up a little against the pillows and take the glass of water that was being handed him. When he finished it, he finally looked up at Tony.

“Better?”

Peter nodded a little.

“Good. Great. Fantastic.” He patted Peter on the shoulder a little, “Get some sleep, okay?”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He was asleep before Tony had even left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your comments are making my DAY thank you thank you you're so very sweet 
> 
> also this one's a SAD one so buckle up babes

“Friday, the time?”

“4:38 am, boss.” The AI sounded worried. Maybe she reflected whatever mood Tony was in. That would make sense. His own programming never failed to impress even himself. 

“Dear god above.” Tony groaned. Before he allowed himself the satisfaction of collapsing on the couch, he paused at the bar, the need to have a drink in his hand almost unbearable. As he picked up a glass, though, he hesitated. No matter how much he wanted a drink, he still couldn’t forget the kid a few rooms over, now looking up to him alone to look out for him. The worry of in any way impairing his already shaky ability to parent took over, and the glass went back to the shelf. Instead, there was a quick detour to the kitchen to switch on the coffee pot before heading back to the living room. 

With a sigh, he finally allowed himself to sit. “Fri, show me what happened today.” He didn’t bother savoring the drink in his hand, “What happened to Peter?”

He almost regretted asking. 

Dread crept into his stomach as he watched the grainy video of the street outside the movie theater. As he watched, people exited the theater, talking and chatting, and he scanned the crowd desperately to find Peter and May. 

They walked close, laughing together and holding hands. A part of his heart melted at the image. Peter had to be the sweetest kid, still holding his aunt’s hand in his teenage years. As they stepped out into the street, Tony found himself holding his breath, hoping that what he knew was going to happen wouldn’t. 

The car came out of nowhere, careening around the corner and heading straight towards them. May had seen it first. In the split second before it happened, she was shoving Peter behind her and stumbling away from the car, too late. 

Too late. 

Oh god, he felt sick. 

As he watched her fall, grabbing onto Peter, he managed out a weak: “Fri, turn the sound off.”

There were tears in his eyes as he watched Peter drop to his knees and curl himself around her. He didn’t even look up when the car screeched to a halt, and then almost immediately took off again, leaving a panicked mess of people watching the accident and Peter. 

Tony could barely watch as the tiny Peter on his screen shook his aunt’s shoulders and screamed and hugged her close to himself. When the ambulance showed up and he had to be pried away from her, Tony turned off the tv. There were tears in his eyes, his heart heavy in his chest and a sick feeling in his stomach. That poor kid.

He found himself walking back to the guest bedroom and pushing open the cracked door until he was able to see inside. Peter was asleep still, although a great deal more tangled up in the blankets around him. He had a frown on his face, but he didn’t seem to be that bothered so Tony didn’t wake him up.

Shit. He could have died tonight. Peter could have died.

Tony gripped the door frame to steady himself, his eyes trapped on the steady rise and fall of Peter’s chest as a way of reassuring himself that yes, the kid was alive. He was okay.

*****

Peter woke up at 5:24 am and couldn’t go back to sleep.

It had been a nightmare that had woken him up, but it had flitted out of his reach as soon as he opened his eyes. He was left with a haunting and empty feeling in its place, forced to imagine what had been able to drag him out of sleep and leave him with shaking hands as he gasped for breath.

His chest hurt and he stared up at the ceiling which…wasn’t his.

“Kid, you awake?”

And suddenly he was on the ceiling.

“Woah!”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter clung to the ceiling, the shirt that he had forgotten to put on the night before still clutched in his hands as he hung upside down.

“What——” Tony was still dressed in what he had been wearing the night before, sans jacket, the front of his shirt still a little rumpled from where Peter had held onto it. He watched as Peter dropped back onto the bed, giving the shirt a once over before pulling it over his head. 

He still stood on the bed as the night before slowly came back to him. Their night out, the theater, the movie——

His breath stuck in his throat as he stumbled off the bed. The light that came in from the hallway let in a little light but it was still too dark. “Friday, lights 100%.”

“Wait—!”

The bright lights in the room had both Peter and Tony groaning and covering their eyes.

“Lights at 40%!” Tony corrected and they dimmed back down. 

For a moment, the two of them stood frozen in front of each other as they got used to the light again, both hesitant to move for a second. 

“Sorry kid,” Tony broke the silence, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Peter nodded, gulping down air until his breathing slowed to what could pass as normal. “It’s fine. Just got spooked.”

Again, silence took over. Peter was shaking. Despite the few hours of sleep, he was still exhausted and felt ready to pass out, but he didn’t want to in front of Tony. After his freak out a few hours earlier and how well Tony had handled the situation, Peter didn’t want to make him deal with more than he had to. 

He wrapped his arms around himself tight, trying to comfort the cold feeling that grew in his stomach at the memory of last night. Everything about the night was remembered in flashes, like he couldn’t quite piece together the whole thing in a linear way. A quick shot of fear here and pain there and then the brief reassurance when Tony had held him at the hospital. 

“You think you can go back to sleep?” Tony seemed awkward. Right as Peter was finally starting to feel a little bit comfortable around his hero, everything seemed to go right back to when they had first met and didn’t know how to act around each other again. 

Peter managed a nod, letting himself sink down onto the edge of the bed. His body felt wired and exhausted at the same time. He wanted to swing through the city and sleep for the next few months. 

“There’s sweats on the dresser,” Tony pointed, like he didn’t want to get too close. “In case you don’t want to sleep in jeans. Can’t imagine that would be comfortable.” He was talking like he normally did, sure and relaxed, like he didn’t care. Peter wasn’t sure if the lack of attention felt good or not. “Will you be okay?”

Probably not, if Peter was being honest, but who said anything about honesty? “I’ll be fine.” He managed, grabbing the pair of sweats from the dresser and holding them against his chest. 

“You come get me if you need anything, got it?” Tony sounded a little worried now, but Peter only nodded. 

“Alright.”

“Sleep well, kid.”

“Okay.”

And he was gone again. Everything about their interaction felt wrong on so many different levels, leaving Peter feeling cold and alone again. What was he expecting? For his hero to suddenly drop everything for some kid who was crashing in his guest room? 

Obviously he wouldn’t know or maybe even care about this situation too much. He barely knew May. He hadn’t really seen Peter that much since the plane crash. 

Peter hugged the soft sweats a little closer to his chest, his eyes stuck on the thin strip of light that filtered in beneath the door that had closed behind his hero. The lights were still on, enough to light up the room but not enough to overstimulate his already sensitive senses. 

He allowed himself a few more moments to breathe before changing to the sweats. They were a little big on him but he figured it really didn’t matter. It didn’t. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he buried his face in his shaking hands. 

His face that was devoid of tears?

Why wasn’t he crying? Shouldn’t he be crying? He should be! Cry, damnit!

For a few sorry seconds, he even tried to force tears. When they didn’t come, guilt swallowed his stomach. God. He couldn’t even summon a few tears for his aunt who had literally been killed in front of him. 

Who had died because he. Couldn’t. Save her. 

Because he had gotten scared and because he hadn’t felt the car coming with his spidey sense going crazy and because he hadn’t been fast enough. 

Hopeless guilt rushed through him until he felt sick again. He couldn’t throw up on the floor, not again. Peter stood on weak legs and crept to the closed door, pressing his ear against it for a moment to check if Tony was still out there. His stomach had settled since he had stood up, but he didn’t want to risk an accident. He’d camp out in the bathroom, if he could find it. 

There was no sound from behind the door so Peter eased it open a crack, daring to stick his head out to investigate the hallway. It sounded like a tv was on down the hall in the living room that he had walked through, but other than the hallway and the light from the tv, the house was penthouse was dark. 

Peter let out a breath, creeping silently into the hallway and making sure he didn’t make a sound. He doubted there was a single creaking spot in Tony Stark’s entire building, but one could never be too careful. 

Now which room was the bathroom? He momentary regretted not asking for a tour of the house before passing out, but he figured that was a little too much to ask. Besides, how hard could it be to find a bathroom? As he got closer to the sound of the tv though, he paused.

Someone was crying. They sounded miserable. And so, so, so weak. 

As he turned around the corner of the hall, he barely managed to hold back a whimper. The huge tv in the living room was on and playing a grainy recording of the outside of the theater. 

And then he saw Tony, his hero, hunched over on the couch with his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking in what looked to be sobs. It felt so wrong to see him like this, as anything less than the strong and untouchable superhero that Peter had always thought of him as. He couldn’t stand this—to see him cry over…him.

As Peter watched in horror, he and May stepped off the curb. From his viewpoint now, it was easy to see the car coming. It was like he was watching in slow motion as he relived the moment, his throat closing up and his stomach twisting as he watched the him from a few hours before. He watched as he did nothing to protect the only family he had left.

The feeling of being sick came back in full force and he pushed himself away from the doorway and down the hall, shoving open the first door he saw and thanking whatever god or entity that was watching over him when he saw that it was a bathroom. The lights automatically came on when he entered the room and he barely had enough time to throw himself over the toilet before whatever was left in his stomach was emptied and he was left shaking, his forehead sweaty and hot and his breath coming in gasps.

Seeing it happen again, so detached and far away from the chaos, had brought everything back. The numb feeling was still stuck in his chest but he felt the overwhelming wave of emotions threatening to overtake him as he leaned his forehead against the cool edge of the toilet seat. Probably not very sanitary, but he found that he didn’t care. 

He didn’t care, he couldn’t bring himself to care, what the hell was the point of caring anymore? Everything he had done, it had been to keep people safe. Spiderman was supposed to protect people, to keep them safe from situations exactly like that one. He was your friendly neighborhood Spiderman! He was supposed to be there to save people!  
But she was still dead.

And still the tears didn’t come. 

Peter tried to swallow down the guilt, but he ended up heaving into the toilet again, his empty stomach trying to empty itself again. God, he just wanted this to end. He just wanted to go home. 

As the thought crossed his mind and he steeped in it, it became the most important thing in the world. Home. He needed to go home. And not this unfamiliar, empty, guest bedroom of a house. He needed his own home. Maybe that would somehow break through the dam in his chest. Maybe once he saw the apartment, the tears would finally come. 

Maybe once he got there, May would be in the kitchen, standing by an open window as dinner smoked on the stove. 

As his stomach settled a little, Peter flushed the toilet and washed his face in the sink, not bothering to look up into the mirror. He figured he didn’t look too hot and he didn’t need to actually see himself to understand that. The numb feeling was still trapped in his chest, thin, like a million emotions were waiting to burst through at any second. That would have to wait.

As he left the bathroom, he noticed that the tv had been turned off, much to his relief. It didn’t stop the vague feeling of anxiety that rushed through him as he made his way to the living room to confront his hero. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but he firmly believed that he would never get any rest or comfort from this place. He needed his home.

“Mr. Stark?” His voice sounded hoarse, tired, probably used up from tears earlier that night. “Are you still awake?”

At the sound of his voice, Tony sat up straight on the couch, his eyes wide and searching around the room for a second before they landed on Peter. “Kid.” He coughed and rubbed a hand down his face, already getting off the couch. “What happened? What’s wrong?” His eyes were red, proving that Peter hadn’t imagined him crying earlier.

Peter wanted to scoff at the question, but nothing came out except for a choked noise in his throat. He stood in clothes that were not his in a house that was not his and he just. wanted. to cry.

“What happened?” Tony was coming towards him, hands moving like they wanted to hug him or touch him but they didn’t get close enough to. “Nightmare?”

“Mr. Stark, I want to go home.”

There was a small moment of silence as the billionaire watched Peter standing there, arms wrapped around his chest and head hung down. Peter could feel the pity radiating off of him and it made his chest tighten. 

“Kid——”

“Please,” He was desperate, but his voice came out only a little louder than a whisper. “I need to go home, I can’t stay here, Mr. Stark, please. I want to go home, I just want to go home.” This was it. Tony was going to refuse and Peter was going to have to escape the Avenger’s base and find a way back to Queens with no money and no suit and no protection. There had to be a subway nearby, right? How far had they traveled in the car? Dammit, he should have been paying attention. Maybe Happy would——

“Alright, alright, calm down.” Tony’s gentle and hesitant hands on Peter’s shoulders calmed the rush of thoughts and——as he realized——his words. “Pete, I…I don’t think it’s a good idea to go back there right now.”

“What?” Peter shoved Tony’s hands away from him with ease. Running away it was, then. “Fine. I’ll go.” He made a move to head to the elevator, praying again that he could find his way out of the building. Tony wouldn’t keep him there against his will, right? Or was he able to, now that he was technically Peter’s guardian? 

Oh god, he hadn’t even thought about that whole issue, much less unpacked it and analyzed it.

“Wait, Pete——”'

“I’ll be fine.” He probably wouldn’t be. “I’m Spiderman.” He sure didn’t feel like it. “Are you going to try to stop me?” He prayed that he wouldn’t.

He waited a moment watching Tony’s reaction to his protests before he nodded once and turned around. Ugh, he still felt sick, but the idea of sleeping in his own bed and being around his own things was unbelievably comforting. 

Before he took two steps though, Tony had grabbed his arm to stop him and Peter let him. When he turned around, he saw Tony Stark looking unbearably pitiful and worried and it stopped the teenager dead in his tracks. Ouch, wrong use of words, ouch, ouch.

“Pete just…” Tony sighed, “Let me get a jacket.” He grabbed the car keys out of the bowl on the counter and gestured down the hallway, “Go get your shoes.”

Peter nodded, relief shoving down on him until he felt ready to collapse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! Let me know what you think!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's kind of a long one so ENJOY folks!!

Peter was silent in the car ride back to the city. 

He sat next to Tony with a perfectly neutral expression on his face, his hands folded in his lap and one of Tony’s jackets around his shoulders. He really didn’t need it, the car was perfectly warm, but Tony figured an extra layer might help the kid feel a little safer.Something else to hold on to.

He still didn’t know how to act around Peter. Over the past few months, they had gotten closer. Tony found that he genuinely cared about the kid, finding it harder and harder to watch him get hurt even when he was reassured that he had a damn good healing ability. In the few months prior, Tony might even call them friends.It had been nice.

But now, Peter was acting so distant that Tony didn’t even know how to react to it. He’d never seen the talkative and excitable kid so quiet and hidden before.He was so drawn back into himself that he barely looked like the same Peter that Tony knew.

Halfway to the city, Tony put the radio on to drown out the silence that had filled the car. It hurt to see Peter like this, broken down and silent.

*****

Peter spent most of the drive zoned out and staring out the window. He was thankful for the coat that Tony had thrown to him before they had left; It helped hide the near-constant shaking of his hands and the hood was pulled up to hide his face a little better. It was nice to hide.

Exhaustion washed over him like waves, drawing him closer and closer to sleep as he listened to the quiet music in the car. Every few minutes he shifted in his seat, making sure he was never comfortable enough to fall asleep.No matter how tired he was, it felt wrong to fall asleep in the car. Tony had done enough.He didn’t need to deal with that on top of everything else.Besides, they were almost home.

When the car finally pulled up in front of the house, Peter finally let out a breath. Home, home, home——

He was out of the car before Tony had even turned off the engine, running up to the doors and pressing down the buzzer until it clicked with someone picking it up.

“Hello?”

“Mike!” Peter gasped out, suddenly desperate to get inside. “It’s Peter.I, uh,”he glanced back to where Tony walked towards him. “I forgot my key.”

“Roger that, kid.” The man didn’t even question why Peter was coming home at 6 am. The door buzzed and opened.

Tony followed Peter inside, a few steps behind as they headed up the stairs to the third floor. 

“Who’s Mike?” Tony carefully prodded.

“Neighbor.” Came the response, and there was no elaboration on that. 

Their footsteps echoed in the empty stairwell and Peter kept his head down the entire time, his eyes stuck on his shoes. 

A door opened down the hall and a man poked his head out, pajama-clad and squinting. 

“Peter?”

Peter jumped and turned. “Oh. Hey, Mike.”

“Hey.” The man looked Tony up and down, either not recognizing or not caring who he was. “You alright? Where’s your aunt?”

Tony’s heart plummeted and he glanced at Peter, bracing for the breakdown and getting ready to herd him into the apartment.

“Still at the hospital.” Peter intoned, and Tony felt sick. She had been a nurse. The excuse was both truth and a lie. “Late night.”

“Alright.” The man nodded, “You take care, little Parker. Try to remember your key next time.” 

Peter nodded, and continued walking. Tony made brief eye contact with the man, Mike. Both were suspicious, but they offered each other a polite nod and moved along. Tony waited until the man’s door was shut before his shoulders relaxed. Something about the man felt off.

When they finally reached their front door, Peter grabbed the spare key from under the fake flower pot beside the door and opened up the apartment.

Just stepping inside sent a rush of relief through him and he headed straight for the couch. Tony could let himself out.Peter just needed to sleep and he doubted he’d be able to make it all the way to his bed in the state he was in. 

He let himself collapse on the cushions, the familiar scent and feel of it making his heartache and his chest feel tight, but he grabbed the nearest throw pillow and hugged it to his chest, burying his face in the worn-out fabric.

God, he wanted to cry. Even tears of relief would be fine at this point. He felt like one of those middle school science experiments with the baking soda volcano, building up and ready to explode at any point, but it was like something in him was broken. 

As he hugged the pillow tighter and tried not to dwell on anything except forcing himself into sleep, he felt the blanket from the back of the couch being pulled over him. Maybe Tony would stay for a little bit.That’d be okay.Peter figured he did feel a little safer with Iron Man standing guard as he slept.

*****

Tony couldn’t get over how young Peter looked, curled up on the couch with only his fluffy mane of hair sticking out from under the blanket. He had dropped off to sleep pretty much the second he had hit the cushions, probably passed out from exhaustion.The kid had been going pretty much nonstop since the accident the night before, Tony figured he deserved to sleep for a week. 

With a sigh, the billionaire headed towards the kitchen table to sit, as the couch seemed to be the only place in the living room to sit. 

As he looked around the tiny apartment, Tony realized how exactly not rich the Parkers were. The furniture was old and worn out, but hadn’t yet reached the vintage state, just looking shabby where it was shoved in wherever it could fit. There was no carpet in the apartment and the wood floors were faded and scratched up from years of use.It made him feel guilty; People were living with barely anything while he sat in a multimillion-dollar compound where literally everything was the newest version of itself. 

He remembered the first time he had taken Peter to the tower, just as a pitstop on their way to Germany for the fight, and how in awe the teenager had been when he had seen it. Everything was exciting to him, everything was interesting and he certainly had questions about it all. 

While at first, Tony could barely stand the barrage of questions that the kid had thrown at him, he had started getting attached to the kid. He could keep up with Bruce and him when they talked science and he even had his own ideas that he shyly offered up in conversation.He got along with everybody and the Avengers genuinely seemed to like him, Clint even going so far as to invite Peter to come over more often after he had followed in Tony’s footsteps and (albeit politely) talked back to Sam. 

Tony’s heart ached as he remembered the constant energy that the kid had, always ready with a smart joke or a bright idea or just a slew of excited questions. 

Suddenly filled with the need to make sure that Peter was okay, Tony left the chipped table and headed back to the living room, taking a seat at the edge of the couch. 

The boy was still sleeping, stilled curled tight around the pillow in his arms and his face so buried into it that Tony momentarily worried if he was able to breathe. His worried thoughts were calmed as he (hopefully not creepily) watched the steady rise and fall of the young superhero's breaths.

Peter didn’t deserve this. From what he had learned or been told, Peter had lost both his parents when he was a child and then his uncle a few years after that. It had been him and his aunt for a while now, learning to live on their own but always having each other.

Now he was alone, and he very clearly blamed himself.

If that wasn’t enough, Tony knew that Peter was still traumatized from the plane crash the night of his homecoming, having to watch Toomes nearly die in front of him after he had tried to literally kill the teenager. 

Even Tony, with his fucked up family issues and years of trauma and pain, knew that it was a lot to take on, especially considering Peter was only 15. 15? Was he 16 now?A twinge of guilt shot through him for not even knowing his age.

With a sigh, Tony leaned back against the back of the couch, repositioning Peter’s legs so he had a little bit of room to sit back. He knew it was probably childish, but he felt better when he was able to see that Peter was actually still breathing and alive.

He could have died a few hours ago. If he had moved a certain way or been a little bit too far for May to protect-----he could have died. And Tony was no stranger to death, not in the slightest bit, but it certainly didn’t scare him any less than it had when he had first been introduced to it. 

The “genius, orphaned, kid” thing that Peter had going on was all too familiar to what Tony had been through and he hated having to see anyone else have to go through it. 

He didn’t even know how to handle Peter after this. On paper, May had deemed him Peter’s legal guardian should anything happen to her and he had promised to take care of Peter when he had signed it. Peter didn’t know.Neither May nor Tony wanted to put any more stress on the kid by telling him that they had a backup plan in case his aunt died.It had been May’s idea and Tony hadn’t even hesitated when she called him to discuss it the night after Peter’s homecoming. He hadn’t hesitated then, but he had barely given any thought to taking care of a kid.

He was a mess, and he knew it. He could barely keep himself alive and functioning, how was he supposed to take care of a teenager? In the back of his mind, something had told him that this day would come and that he’d have to face it someday, but he had never actually thought that he’d find himself in this position. He wasn’t prepared.He didn’t know a damn thing about kids, much less kids with superhuman abilities who had a tendency to fling himself around the city at 2 am to stop petty criminals.

His promise to May to keep Peter safe if anything should happen to him made him feel a little sick now, wondering how the hell he was going to manage to keep this kid out of trouble. Sure, trauma was something that Tony had dealt with and so had the rest of the Avengers, but for a kid?After something like this?Tony didn’t know a damn thing about this. 

What made him sick to the stomach was the fact that Peter had already gotten hurt on Tony’s watch. In Germany, he had no right pulling a high schooler into his fight with Cap, putting him in the line of danger and getting him pretty banged up after being thrown clear across a runway by the giant shrinking guy that Tony had yet to meet. 

On top of that, there was the homecoming debacle. Again, Peter had gotten hurt while going after a jet that everyone told him wasn’t a big deal. He had been the only one who did anything to stop Toomes from escaping and because of him, probably thousands of people were saved. But his superhuman abilities hadn’t saved him from getting pretty beat up after fighting the Vulture guy and taking down an entire jet. 

Peter shifted a little in his sleep, the pillow being pulled ever closer to himself as he let out a little noise of discomfort and Tony was once again on high alert. 

“Pete?” 

Peter wasn’t awake, he just turned over until he was facing the back of the couch and hiding his face even more than he had been before. He stopped fidgeting and Tony let himself relax again. 

He was dead tired and scared as all hell, but there was no way he was leaving Peter alone right now. He’d be there when he woke up and every time after that that Peter needed him.

*****

Peter awoke in a second, finding himself sitting upright before he had even opened his eyes.

His heart pounded and his throat felt tight but he couldn’t for the life of him remember the dream that had no doubt woken him up. He just knew that he was scared.

“You awake?”

“What the _fuck--_” Peter was off the couch and three steps away from it before he looked back and saw a very tired looking Tony Stark sitting on his couch and holding his hands up in a “calm down” sort of gesture. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Tony looked like he was approaching a scared animal. “Oh.You okay?”

Peter nodded, feeling his heart rate going back down, but not heading back to the couch quite yet. “Yeah.”

“Nightmare?”

He shrugged. Probably, but he really didn’t remember it. God, what time was it?He grabbed his pocket for his phone but found it empty. Maybe his jacket---?This was not his jacket. 

He pulled it off, shivering a little at the sharp change in temperature as the apartment was as cold as the ninth circle of hell. As he looked at the fancy material and clean-cut, he realized that it was a Stark Industries jacket and suddenly the night came back. 

How could he have forgotten that? How could that not be the first thing he thought of when he woke up? Unthinkingly, his eyes tracked their way to the closed door of his Aunt’s bedroom and his heart felt cold in his chest. He pulled the jacket back around him. 

Tony had gotten up from the couch and come around to look Peter in the eyes. “You hungry?I could make something probably.”

“I don’t need my house to burn down right now.” Peter managed out, but the joke fell flat and both of them knew it. Peter looked on the edge of panic.

“Hey now,” Tony very slowly reached over to pat Peter on the shoulder, not wanting to alarm him. “I’m not that bad.”

Peter nodded, distracted, his eyes still on May’s door. He wanted to open it.He wanted to see how normal and familiar it looked. He wanted to see May inside.

Would it hurt more to leave it there or to open it and acknowledge her being gone? 

He moved to stand more clearly in front of it, his hands still wrapping the jacket around him and not making a move to open the door. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, stock-still in front of the bedroom door with his hero standing there beside him. 

“You don’t have to stay.” He said quietly, not bothering to look up at Tony. “I’ll be okay.”

There wasn’t any hesitation when Tony answered, “I’m not leaving you, kid.”

“I’ll be okay.” Again.

“I know. I’m not leaving.” 

He figured he couldn’t win an argument with Iron Man in the state that he was in, so Peter just nodded. He felt bad for making Tony drive him all the way home and for selfishly wanting him to stay there with him. He really wasn’t sure if he was okay, but the reassurance that Tony had brought with him helped a little.He didn’t want to let go. 

“I’ll order a pizza.” Tony offered, sounding more sure. “That way I don’t ruin your kitchen. Good?”

Peter shrugged, “I’m not really hungry, Mr. Stark.”

“You’ve slept all day, come on.” Tony already had his phone out, “What’s your address?”

“Mr. Stark, really, I’m not hungry.” Peter finally looked away from the door. “I’m fine.”

Tony looked at him with an arched eyebrow that usually meant a sort of ‘You’re wrong and I’m right, are you really going to argue’ look. But Peter didn’t bother backing down. 

“I’m fine.” He insisted again. He went back to the couch and pulled the jacket off of his shoulders, tossing it on the couch and grabbing the blanket instead. Without a look back, he headed towards his own room. 

He felt bad for so blatantly saying no to Tony, but not really enough to go back and share a pizza with him. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle that, trying to act normal when he felt so far off from himself. 

His door closed with a finality that he both loved and hated, cutting himself off from the rest of the world. The blanket fell from his arms and he stood still in the middle of the room for a moment as he took in the feeling of being home. It felt a little empty, like had hadn’t been gone long enough to miss it, which he really hadn’t. 

A look at his clock beside the bed told him that it was nearly 11 am. Had he really slept for so long?It seemed like both a few minutes ago and at the same time years ago that he and May had gone to the theater. The ache in his chest at the memory told him for sure that it was the former that was more true. 

As he made his way to sit on his bed, his eyes caught sight of his suit shoved down in the back of his closet. Usually, the sight of it made him unbelievably proud to wear and own it.Now, it made him feel sick.

He didn’t deserve to have it, he didn’t deserve to be Spiderman. 

The suit sat in his vision, taunting him with how completely and utterly useless he had been the night before. How he had frozen on the spot and let the person he loved more than anyone else in the world take a hit for him. If he had reacted fast enough, he probably would have been able to stop the car. He’d stopped cars before. He could hold a whole bus if he wanted 

He had been too scared to do anything and someone died because of him, May died because of him. 

Because he was a scared, stupid, useless little kid----

Somehow, he had gotten ahold of the suit, his knees hitting his cold floor as he held the wretched thing in his hands. God, he wanted to tear it apart, he never wanted to look at it again. 

He didn’t deserve it. Tony should take it back. Give it to some other kid who could probably do his damn job and keep his neighborhood safe. 

Desperate, he yanked the fabric as hard as he could in opposite directions, needing to see it rip but it didn’t give. Again, he tried to tear it apart but it stayed strong.He couldn’t even tear his own suit.

He found new purchase on the suit and tried again, letting out a cry of frustration and despair when it didn’t rip. Again and again and again and again he tried----

And then Tony was back and gently pulling the suit from Peter’s hands and replacing it with his own. With Tony’s hands in his, Peter immediately stopped moving in fear of hurting him and pulled in a shaky breath. 

Tony didn’t say anything, but leaned forward and took Peter in his arms and held him tight. The relief of being held had him sagging into his hero’s arms, his own hands scrambling to pull himself even closer to the one source of comfort he could get. 

They sat on the floor, Tony gently rocking them back and forth until Peter calmed down and his breaths came easily again. Even after he had stopped shaking, Tony didn’t let go.They simply sat there in each other’s comfort until Peter’s stomach growled and Tony insisted on food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Your comments are seriously keeping me going, thank you so much!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for about 10 minutes today i thought i lost the 30,000+ words that I have on this lol genuinely scared me

Peter had broken down, but Tony still had yet to see any tears out of him since the hospital and he was getting worried. Shouldn’t he have cried again by now?How often do teenagers cry?Damn, he should have looked at a parenting book the minute he had met the kid. 

They sat side by side at the kitchen table, two pizza boxes in front of them, as Tony at least knew that Peter ate about twice as much since the spider bite. At least he knew that much.They were quiet, still having nothing to fill the empty space between them, but at least this time it was more relaxed.They weren’t as tense beside each other and there was more of an understanding that yes, both of them were scared shitless and didn’t know what the hell to do.

At least Tony thought that was clear. It was hard to get a read on the kid after he had gotten so used to Peter just straight up telling him what was on his mind. 

Literally. All the time. 

But for the moment, they allowed the other to comfort them with silence, just the promise of still being there and not leaving. 

After he had pulled the suit from Peter’s grasp and the teenager had allowed himself to be held, it had become a comfort for the both of them. The fear that Peter could have died was still fresh in Tony’s mind and being able to hold the kid and reassure himself that he was fine (fine being a loose term) was exactly what he needed. 

They had spent a long time sitting there on the floor and Tony promised himself that next time he had any free time, he was going to read every damn parenting book that had ever been printed. There was so much that he didn’t know how to handle or bring up and he didn’t want to do so without some sort of guidance first.Maybe he could talk to Clint.Clint would probably know a few things.

How long does a teenager spend mourning? He tried to remember how long it had taken him after his own parent’s funeral----

Funeral.

They had to plan May’s funeral.

Tony’s heart went cold as he remembered how he had left the hospital with Peter the night before without even a look at the doctors or nurses, not even thinking ahead to what he knew was probably on him now. Funeral planning. 

When Tony was younger, he had managed to deal with it with the help of Obadiah, but even thinking back on it, it was a sore subject. He figured it was sort of on him now, his responsibility to take care of this kid in the same way---no, better than---he had been taken care of. 

“Mr. Stark, you really don't need to stay here.” Peter sounded like he'd rather die than have Tony leave. Ohhh, wrong wording. 

Instead of brushing off the out Peter offered him, Tony put down his pizza and turned in his seat to face the teenager head-on. “Peter, listen to me.”

Peter looked surprised and turned as well. 

“I'm not going anywhere. I am staying by your side until you're ready to be on your own, okay? I am not leaving you alone.”

Stubborn as always, Peter continued to argue, “Mr. Stark, really. You’ve done enough for me and...and…”_May_. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been on my own before, I can handle myself.”

Instead of reassuring him like they were obviously meant to, the words weighed down on Tony’s heart. He knew that Peter was a teenager.He obviously had stayed at home on his own before, but the words reminded him again of the small house and worn down furniture and he wondered again how much May had worked to keep them going. 

Peter’s clothes were always clean, but he was usually at least a little bit hungry at all times. Tony had figured it was because of his increased metabolism as Spiderman, but now he was wondering if maybe Peter had skipped a few meals to help his aunt save money. Knowing the kid, Tony wouldn’t put it past him.He wondered how often Peter stayed alone while May worked overtime and when he realized that it was probably very often, guilt started chewing at his mind. He should have been paying the kid, even for just hanging out in his workshop.Maybe it could have gotten a few extra meals onto the Parkers' table.There he was, sitting in his penthouse as the people he cared about may have been living off of scraps. 

“I know you can handle yourself,” Tony started. “But the point isn’t whether or not you can handle it. Sometimes you need someone to stand by your side and kid, I’m going to stand by your side.”

“You’ve got a company to run.” Peter protested.

“Pepper can run it. Lord knows she can handle it better than I can most of the time.” Tony shrugged, “I’ll just take some time off.”

“No---” Peter seemed to be struggling to find an argument. “Mr. Stark---”

“Tony.”

Peter hesitated, then: “Mr. Stark, this isn’t a problem that’s just going to go away.” He was pleading.“This is permanent.This---”He gestured wildly around the apartment, “can’t be fixed with a pat on the back and an ‘I’m sorry’. It’s so much.It’s…”

Tony couldn’t find the right words to pick up where Peter left off. The kid was working himself into a panic and if Tony wasn’t careful, he’d be headed in the same direction. “Alright, alright, here, breathe.” 

The fears that Peter was voicing were the exact same as the ones racing through Tony’s mind. He was right, even though it did sting to hear them said out loud.This wasn’t some sort of problem that he could fix easily or throw money at or send Pepper to take care of for him. This was a child in his care, a child who had been through a considerable amount of trauma for such a young age, along with, you know, being a part-time superhero.Taking Peter in meant...being a father. And he had to face that.

As important as that realization was, he quickly placed it to the side to focus on the kid in front of him. 

“There you go, breathe, just like that. Better?”

Peter nodded, although his breath had barely slowed. His hands were knotted in the front of Tony’s shirt, but he didn’t make any move to bring the two of them closer. Tony figured that he must be overwhelmed. 

Tony sighed and pushed his plate of breakfast away from him. It was barely touched and matched Peter’s.He ducked his head to meet Peter’s eyes, disheartened when he saw that they were shut tight. He held the kid’s face gently and moved so that they faced each other.

“Can you open your eyes?”

Peter opened them.

“Okay, I need you to listen to this, because what I’m going to say is very important.”

He was rewarded with a nod and a look that was somehow a mixture of guilt, fear, and grief. He wondered if he had looked the same when his own family had died. 

“I am staying by your side. I know you feel alone right now kid, I really do.”

Peter scrunched up his nose.

“But I promise you that I’m going to be here with you through it all. Okay?All of it.”Tony’s chest felt tight, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he was uncomfortable with the emotional outburst, or if it was him actually being genuine with the kid. “And I know this is scary and different and I wish to god that this---”he gestured around him, “---was put into place under different circumstances, but I need you to know that I am so happy you’re here with me. I don’t need to be here, Underoos, I want to be here.”

Peter nodded, but he still looked hesitant. 

“Peter.”

The actual use of his name brought his attention up to the billionaire. 

“Your aunt gave me custody.” It wasn’t how Tony had been planning on telling the kid, but then again, what would be a good time? There would never be a perfect time.“Legally, you’re mine.”

“What...Mr. Stark, when?”

“Long time ago, kiddie. I’ll tell you the story another time.” He cleared his throat.“Point is, I wanted you. You’ve always been like, you know, a sort of son to me.” Damn, were these words hard to get out.“I want you here, kid. I want to be here for you, I want to be who you turn to.I am choosing to be here with you.”

As the weight of the words sunk in, Peter seemed to sink down too. He dropped back onto the chair and let go of Tony’s shirt.His hands pulled back to himself, clasped together and held under his chin. Literally closing him off from Tony.It made his heart hurt.

“Kid?”

“I’m going to my room.” And then Peter was gone, the door swinging shut behind him, stopping for a moment before it closed like it had to be kicked shut. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading !!


	5. Chapter 5

It only took a day and a half trapped in the Parker’s apartment for Tony to start to go stir crazy. The apartment was tiny and there was literally nothing to do.Peter spent most of the time locked away in his room, even after the emotional outpouring over their pizza the day before. He had shut himself off and Tony felt completely helpless.

More than once, Tony got himself worked up enough that he had to actually knock on the kid’s door just to hear the resounding “go away” to know that Peter was even there. Despite the space between them, it was a comfort just to hear his voice. But how was he supposed to help if Peter wouldn’t let him in?

Tony slept on the couch. It reminded him of his college days, when he had been careless and reckless and now—now he was in charge of an entire child’s wellbeing. Occasionally, he would wake up in the middle of the night to the glow of the fridge light and he looked up to see Peter in the kitchen, silently making himself food before disappearing back into his room. Tony began checking the fridge regularly, making sure the food was up to date and that there was enough of it to keep Peter going. 

The moment Peter had shut himself into his room, Tony had downloaded every book about child trauma onto his phone and had spent hours reading. Somehow, it didn’t help.All the books told him that “every child deals with trauma differently” and it was driving him crazy that he didn’t know what to do.

It wasn’t until two full days had passed with Peter barely talking to Tony or leaving his room that Tony was broken from their depression bubble that had taken over the apartment. 

Steve called him.

For a moment, Tony stared down at the tiny flip phone that he had, for whatever reason, kept. Only Steve had that number, and Tony figured he had forgotten about it.They hadn’t spoken much since Sokovia, not getting farther than a handshake on their good days, and Tony figured he was the last person in the universe that Steve would want to talk to. As he watched his old friend’s name light up the screen, Tony shoved down the mounting anxiety. He was still _scared_. Of his _friend_. 

He cleared his throat and answered. “Hello?”

“Tony.”

“Yeah, you called me. What’s wrong?”It had to be an emergency if Steve was calling. Tony measured his breathes. If it was a “save the world” kind of emergency, that would mean leaving Peter. No, he couldn’t do that. The others could take care of it. It was fine. 

“Nothing’s wrong----where are you?” Steve was...concerned?“The team is saying you disappeared a few days ago and you also haven’t been back at the tower.”

So Steve was back at the tower too. That was fine.He and the rogues had been pardoned. He had his own room still. Tony just hadn’t been expecting him to actually use it anytime soon.It wasn’t like they were all that fond of each other, and even more so lately. “I’m with a friend.” He kept the explanation brief.“Why?What happened?”

“Nothing happened, Tony.” He could practically hear Steve rolling his eyes. “So you’re safe?I can tell the team to stop stressing?”

“What the hell---why are they worried?” He swore he worked with children, dear god. “I left them pizza money and a DVD, they should be fine.” He fought for the casual, carefree sound in his voice, despite his throat tightening in anxiety.

Steve chose to ignore the sarcasm. “You left without telling anyone where you were going. Friday won’t tell us anything and you haven’t answered your phone in days.”

Oh shit. He had forgotten to turn off Do Not Disturb, how had he forgotten to turn that off? He had been on his phone practically the entire time, reading up on how to be a parent. 

“I’m fine.” He assured.“Tell them to chill.” There was a pause in which both of them heard the word ‘chill’ and thought about the snow, but it was waved away. Tony told himself that he was being overdramatic. 

“Alright.” 

There was a moment of hesitation and Tony legitimately wondered if he was even comfortable going back to the tower again, now that he knew everyone was there. Was he comfortable bringing Peter over there? A part of him wanted to tell Steve to leave, get out of the tower for a bit so he could go by without confrontation.

“Okay--”

“Steve.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be back at the tower.” Tony chickened out.“I’m kind of tied up where I am and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

“But I’ll try to answer my phone more.”

“Alright, Tony.”

Tony closed his eyes. “See ya, Cap.”And he hung up. 

The relief the came with it forced him to drop his head against the back of the couch. His heart pounded and he pressed a hand against it, pushing against his chest as if he could physically slow it down. The need to go to the tower and make sure everything was okay was overwhelming. He was like a kid with strangers visiting his room; He knew someone was going to touch something that wasn’t any of their business or even look at something wrong. At least Pepper was in Japan and Peter was with him, both safe. For a moment, he wondered when he had so easily put Peter into the category in people important to him that Pepper also belonged to.

“Hey, Pete?” Tony got up from the couch and went to Peter’s door, knocking on it a few times. “You okay in there?”

For the first time in what felt like forever, the door opened and Tony and Peter looked at each other, face to face. 

Peter looked exhausted. He clearly hadn’t been sleeping, judging from the dark circles under his eyes. His sweats and sweatshirt looked to be days old, but he clutched the front of the sweatshirt with one hand like it was a comfort blanket. Maybe it had been Ben’s. Or May’s. Or one of his parents. 

It hurt to think about all four parents that Peter had lost. 

“Oh.” Tony did his best to hide the worry in his voice. “Hey, kiddo.”

_Are you okay? Are you sleeping? Are you talking to somebody? Why aren’t you talking to me?_

“You hungry?”

Peter shook his head, but the growl of his stomach betrayed him and Tony nodded. “Thai?”

“No.” Peter looked defeated. “Please.” He tacked on, as if it were an afterthought. 

Tony looked at him carefully; he knew for a fact that it was one of Peter’s favorite kinds of food. 

“Okay,” he amended slowly, “Uh, there’s that sandwich place down the road, right? That sound good?”

“Sure.” Peter was about to close the door again when Tony put his hand against it.

“Hold on a sec, why don’t you come out here for a bit? You’ve been trapped in there for ages, it’s gotta be stuffy.” It was a flimsy excuse, but Tony was desperate.

When Peter looked hesitant, Tony offered a bribe.

“Come out here and we can watch whatever movie you want to. While eating a great sandwich.How’s that sound?”

The old Peter would have jumped at that chance, would have probably pulled out a list of movies that he wanted to watch with Tony, but the Peter now just shrugged. 

“Fine.” He walked past Tony and made a beeline for the couch, curling up on one side and covering most of himself with a blanket that he really didn’t need in the warm apartment. 

Tony ordered the food and sat down on the other side of the couch. “You want to choose a movie?”

“You can choose, Mr. Stark.”

“It’s Tony, kid.”

“Okay.” 

Tony chose a movie. 

As the evening wound down and they ate their food on the couch, Peter started to get tired. His blinks got slow, his hands absently crumpling and straightening out the napkin in his hands. 

“Hey, kid?”

Peter turned his head so that Tony knew that he was listening, but his eyes stayed on the coffee table in front of him. 

“What would you think about coming with me to the tower for a bit?” It probably wasn’t fair of him to ask this while Peter was falling asleep, but it had been bothering Tony since he had gotten that damn phone call. “Just for a little, we don’t have to stay there for too long.I just want to take a look around and make sure the team didn’t destroy the place, you know?”He tried for a laugh. “Just to check on them.”

“You can go.” Peter shrugged and yawned. “I’ll stay here.”

Tony frowned. The point of the trip was to check on the tower, yes, but he had been hoping to get Peter out of the house for at least a little bit. Give him some human interaction other than just Tony talking to him through the door of his room.Though, to be fair, the human interaction that he would end up getting would most likely be Happy and maybe Rhodey. Tony wasn’t letting the others get anywhere near him. “Kid, I’m not leaving you here.” Besides, now that he knew Steve was out and about, he didn’t want Peter out of his eyesight for a second. 

“I’ll be fine.”

“That’s not the point.”

Peter shrugged. He leaned his head against the pillows and continued to watch the movie. He blinked when something exploded on the screen. 

Tony sighed and figured he should argue about it in the morning if he really was serious about going. Instead of trying to figure it out, he pulled his phone out and turned Do Not Disturb off.Immediately, his phone blew up with notifications. Business alerts forwarded to him from Pepper, an argument between Clint and Sam that they had decided needed to be fixed by Tony, a message from the hospital with information about funeral homes. 

With a sigh, he opened all the notifications and worked through them. He sent a group alert through Friday to tell the team that he was okay, but was busy. Pepper had endless questions on Tony’s opinion and, while Tony answered them all and apologized for being MIA, he didn’t quite get around to the part where he told her about Peter. Oh well. She wouldn’t be home for a while longer and they could work that out later. In the back of his mind, he knew that it was a bad plan, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle that level of scrutiny at the moment. 

By the time he had finished, he looked up to find Peter passed out on the other side of the couch. Tony wondered if he had been sleeping the past two nights. 

Not for the first time, he wished that they had stayed at the tower. At least there he could be alerted if Peter wasn’t sleeping or was having a nightmare. Here, he was left powerless and shut out.Then again, here, he was away from Steve. 

He absently watched the movie, some crime heist flick he had chosen because the title had sounded familiar. He didn’t recognize it, but it wasn’t bad. 

The hero crept through a warehouse because there was always a warehouse in these types of movies. He was being watched, but the camera didn’t show who was watching him.Suspenseful, Tony guessed, if he was any way invested in the story. The music built and built and built and then….the bad guy drove his car directly through the wall of the warehouse, the tires screeching on the floor and then skidding to a stop. 

In an instant, Peter was jackknifing off the couch, his eyes suddenly wide and a cry at his lips, his head whipping around the living room in a panic.

Just as surprised, Tony practically fell off the couch. “Kid!”

“May!” It was a gasp, desperate and scared and realization washed over Tony like a bucket of water. 

“Shit.” He scrambled for the remote, managing to mute the sounds of the subsequent gunfight filling the living room. Shit.Of course, there were going to be screeching tires in this movie.Of course, Peter wouldn’t be okay with that. How had he not realized before?

With the TV muted, Peter slumped over on the couch, his eyes still wide and his breathing still fast, but considerably calmer than he had been upon waking. Tony watched him for a moment before moving towards him. 

“Hey, Underoos.” He held his hands out, moving slowly to make sure that Peter saw that it was him. “You okay?”

Peter swung his gaze around to meet Tony’s eyes, desperate. “She was here, she was here, I swear---”

“I know, kiddie.” God, his heart hurt. “It was a dream.You’re awake. You’re safe.”

“B-but she was—” Peter insisted, sinking further into the couch cushions. “God, I was so c-close.”

_To saving her?_

“I know.” Tony placed what he hoped was a gentle hand on Peter’s arm. “I know.”And when he pulled the kid closer, Peter went with him until Tony could hold him in a tight hug. Peter shook like a leaf.Selfishly, Tony held Peter close as a reassurance that the kid was okay.It was soothing to be able to make sure for himself that Peter was still breathing, albeit a little too fast for Tony’s liking.

“You’re okay, it was a dream, I got you.”

Peter pulled himself closer, which Tony wasn’t expecting him to do. 

“I got you, you’re safe, I’m not going anywhere.”

God, he could practically feel the emotion that surrounded them. It wound between them, suffocating the small room and eliciting shaking shoulders and ragged breaths and pounding heartbeats. It was everywhere and too much and oddly, at that moment, Tony decided that he needed help. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay this is way more slow burn than I planned but you know what fuck it y'all are still reading so here's more of that emotional shitttttt enjoy

“Hold on, _who_ is this?”

Tony sighed, eyes stuck on Peter’s closed-door as he held his phone to his ear. “A hypothetical kid.Went through a shit ton of trauma way too young.”

On the other end, Rhodey could be heard washing dishes as he replied. “Tony, every kid deals with trauma---”

“Differently. Yes, I know that.” Tony didn’t want to tell people the news about Peter because, for starters, none of the team actually knew about Spiderman’s real-life identity and he wasn’t about to let that secret out before the kid was ready. And secondly, it was personal stuff.He was sure that Peter wouldn’t be okay with him telling a whole bunch of people about the recent week, but Tony was desperate. He was helpless and alone and goddamnit, he was scared. 

He was drowning in self-pity and guilt and helplessness and he needed a friend. 

“Listen, Tones,” Rhodey turned the sink off. “Are you okay?No matter how much you say the word ‘hypothetical’, I know it’s not. Was there a…”His voice got softer, “casualty with a fight?Someone get hurt on accident?”

“What? No. God, no.” Tony shook his head and leaned further back against the couch that was steadily becoming more familiar and more uncomfortable. “I just don’t know what to do, you know?”

“I do not, since you won’t tell me any details, but proceed.”

“I’m gonna be a terrible parent someday.” Tony meant the words as a joke but as he said them, they stung. They felt like far too real a fear to be joked about now.

“I doubt that, man.”

“He won’t talk to me.” Tony was talking before he could stop himself. “He keeps his door closed and half the time I’m thinking that he ran away or he tried to….to hurt…” He trailed off because no, Peter would never try to hurt himself.That was something that Tony did, and Peter was not like Tony. “Rhodey, I haven’t even seen him cry yet---”

There was silence on the other end as he cut himself off. Tony swallowed hard and bit down on his knuckle.He had probably said too much. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut?

“Tony----”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Talk to me,” It was his no-nonsense voice. He and Pepper had perfected their no-nonsense talks over the years and Tony wasn’t sure if he hated or loved them for it. “What happened?Is someone hurt?Who is it? Let me help you.Where are you?”

“No!” Tony shook his head, despite his friend not being able to see him. “You can’t come to where I am, I think he would think I betrayed him or some shit.”

“Tony, you’re not answering me. Who?”

Tony hesitated. His eyes locked on Peter’s door. “Um, an intern of mine.”

There was hesitation. “Tony, I know damn well that you have never talked to a single intern at Stark Industries.” 

“Listen----”

Peter’s doorknob turned.

“Shit, I gotta go, I’ll talk to you later.”

“What---Tony!”

Tony hung up as a disheveled looking Peter Parker emerged from the room, with his hair sticking up and decked out in the Hello Kitty pajamas that Tony had bought him what felt like forever ago. 

“Hey, kid.”

“Who were you talking to?” Peter jumped right to the point. Tony looked for suspicion in his eyes, but all he saw was a deep exhaustion he knew he must share.

“Just a friend.”

“Colonel Rhodes?”

Tony hesitated, “Yes.”

Peter looked impressed. “I thought you were going to lie to me.” he walked past Tony and into the kitchen where he opened the fridge door and grabbed an apple. “You passed the test.Good job.”He spoke with no further expression on his face than the tired, empty look that had been there for the past few days. 

“Were you listening in?”

“Not on purpose.”

Super hearing. Damnit.Tony had somehow forgotten.

“So you’re worried about me killing myself in my room while you sit out here, huh?”

The bluntness of the question had Tony’s stomach dropping along with his jaw. “Kid, I---”

“No, that’s fair.” Peter sat down at the kitchen table and Tony didn’t even register that it was the first time he was willingly spending time outside of his room. “If I were you, I’d be worried too.Literally my whole family is dead, unacknowledged deep trauma,a head full of thoughts telling me to do it?I mean, I’d think you were weird if you didn’t think something was wrong with me.”

It was the most words spoken in one go that Tony had heard in a long time. Tony wished they were different ones. 

“You’ve thought about it.” It wasn’t a question.

Peter shrugged. “Our apartment is a few stories up. A jump would work, even with super healing, probably.”

Tony felt sick.

“And I have a whole lotta sharp things in that room. Scissors. Razor.Pocket knife.”

Tony was going to throw up. He gripped the back of the couch, his knuckles hurting.

“But I won’t do it.”

It didn’t help Tony feel any better. 

“Not with you sitting right here to find me.” And with that, Peter tossed the core of his apple into the trash can and made his way back to his room. Tony couldn’t get a word out as he walked, so the door shut again before he could speak. 

*****

Peter had fucked up. From the moment he shut the door behind him, leaving his ominous words and a man with a habit of blaming himself in the room next to his. God, he shouldn’t have told Tony that. 

For a moment, he listened at the door, but there was no sound of someone coming after him. For some reason, that really stung. 

With a sigh, Peter dropped down on his bed. He had never spent this much time in his room before; He never really had a reason to stay camped out in there when the living room was available. But with Tony out there and the guilt and pity and uncertainty, there was nothing about the living room that Peter really liked anymore. 

He knew that he must be driving Tony crazy. Every time he thought about the man---his _hero_\---sitting out there on the old couch and looking around the shabby apartment, Peter was flooded with guilt. He had tried to tell Tony not to stay there with him, he really didn’t need someone looking out for him.Peter couldn’t stop the rush of relief though, when Tony had promised not to leave him.

The conversation from a few minutes before started coming back to him and the guilt increased when Peter realized how much he must have scared Tony with that comment. Groaning, Peter jammed the heels of his hands into his eyes and dropped backwards onto the bed, trying to ignore the deep ache in his chest that seemed to only increase by the day.

He hadn’t _really _thought about it. Sure, the thought crossed his mind a few times, but he knew he would never do anything like that.

There was something about the promise of Tony being there that made Peter want to test it. He wanted to see how far he could push Tony before he left and Peter was alone again. Maybe if he was the one who pushed Tony away on purpose, it wouldn’t hurt so much when he left. 

“Hey, kid?”

Great, and now there was a probably annoyed Tony Stark at the door, ready to pack up and say goodbye----

“Can I come in?”

_Might as well open the door_, Peter thought, _It’s not like I’m going to get to see him after this. Great.I’ve fucked up the one relationship I had left._

“I’m coming in.”

He shouldn’t have told him that; Of course, he wasn’t going to hurt himself with Tony nearby. Belatedly, he thought of Ben’s death, of how Peter had been around for the entire thing, up until his last breath. He could never do that to someone else.

And Tony was in the room. Peter didn’t bother moving his hands from his eyes, but he felt the mattress shift as Tony sat down near him. Not close enough to touch, but enough that Peter could feel that Tony was there with him.

They sat in silence for a little bit, before there were hands gently prying Peter’s own hands from his eyes. He kept them closed, but allowed his hands to be drawn away and held by his hero’s.

“There we go.” Tony’s voice had gone surprisingly soft. “There’s Spiderman.”

The absurdity of the sentence almost made Peter want to crack a smile, but he refrained from doing so. He wasn’t supposed to smile, he wasn’t supposed to laugh, he wasn’t supposed to enjoy Mr. Stark’s company after he had lost May. That wasn’t fair to her.Right?

“Can you open your eyes?”

Peter shook his head. He didn’t think he would be able to handle the guilt of seeing the worry on Mr. Stark’s face.

“Alright.” His voice was still soft. “Alright, that’s okay.” 

Peter lay there with his eyes closed and his hands trapped in Tony’s. It felt nice to have someone nearby him; He had gotten so used to being on his own, even after only a few days locked in his room. 

“There you go, keep breathing, just like that.”

Peter hadn’t even noticed that his breathing had sped up before, but the slower breaths were more obvious now. After a moment, Peter opened his eyes.Tony wasn’t looking at him, but was instead scanning the room.Peter’s heart sunk. 

Scanning for ways that Peter could hurt himself.

God, that was a mistake telling him that. 

“I’m not actually going to do it, you know.”

Tony jumped, his gaze swinging around to land on Peter who had kept his eyes open.

“I know you think I’m going to do something, but you really don’t have to worry about me.” For whatever reason, Peter felt calm.The words came easily.And despite how much he desperately wanted Tony to wrap him up in a hug and tell him that everything was going to be okay...he was fine. “I’m okay.I mean it.”

“Kid—”

“I think you should go back to the tower and make sure everything is going well.” There was nothing he wanted less than for that to happen, but the part of him that wanted to shove Tony away loved the idea.

Tony sighed, his thumb rubbing over Peter’s hand. He looked genuinely upset.“You know, that’s not very reassuring after you told me about all the sharp objects in your room.”

Peter shrugged. He didn’t have a comeback for that. They sat in silence until Peter broke it. 

“I’m sorry you’re worried about me.”

Tony frowned.

“Your conversation on the phone.” Peter clarified. “You said you didn’t know what to do.And…” He chewed his lip, “that I keep shutting you out.”

“That’s not your fault, Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater.” Tony placed Peter’s hands down to scrub at his own jaw.He hadn’t shaved in a few days. Peter had never seen him so unkempt. “Trauma kind of comes in different forms.”

“I know----”

“And I’m an expert on trauma, kid.” Tony smiled at Peter, looking like he was trying to be cheerful. “Trauma and I go way back.”

Desperately, Peter wanted to pry about Tony’s parent’s death. That would be crossing a line for sure, but the sick feeling of someone else having been through something just as bad was what he needed. When Tony opened his mouth, though, a different story came out.

“Have I told you what it was like when I came home from Afghanistan?”

Oh.

“Of course I haven’t,” Tony sighed, “I hate talking about it.”

“Mr. Stark---”

Tony tried for a laugh, but it came out more pathetic than he meant it, sitting there hunched over on Peter’s twin bed. His hand went to Peter’s hair, combing through and pulling apart knots absentmindedly. Peter looked up from where he still lay beside him, trying not to be too obvious when he pushed into his hero’s gentle hand. “I won’t bore you with the gory details of when I was there,” He started, “but my point is that it messed me up.Bad.”

Peter had been six when Tony had been in Afghanistan. He remembered sitting on the couch with May as the reports that Tony Stark was alive were streaming in. At the time, he hadn’t known who Tony was, but May had told him that he had been missing for a long time. It wasn’t until years later that Peter actually did research on the aftermath of his rescue and found out about his sudden drop off the weapon manufacturing map. 

“For days I would do nothing but sit on the floor. Sometimes…” Tony didn’t seem to want to keep talking, but Peter selfishly hoped that he would. “Sometimes I would just cry.I couldn’t work on my suits for a while because working on them meant thinking about that damn cave---”Tony shook his head. “I was a mess, kid.Wasn’t eating, wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t getting better.And really, I don’t think I would have gotten better if it hadn’t been for Pep and Happy. They really pulled me out of it all.” 

Peter turned his head to focus on Tony’s face instead of staring up at the ceiling. He knew what Tony was getting at.

“If it hadn’t been for the two of them…”

“You wouldn’t have made it?” Peter guessed, and Tony nodded.

“Exactly.” Tony shifted to face Peter more, his hand still combing through his hair. He seemed to realize that he was doing it, and hesitated for a moment. Before he could pull away, Peter pushed his head into Tony’s hand, as if telling him that it was alright. “I can’t be everything you need, but I will always do my best to be here for you to help you get better.”The words were so outright genuine that it seemed like the both of them were surprised.“Would you----hear me out----would you maybe consider talking to someone? About all this?”

Peter frowned, “Like a shrink?”

“In a way, yes. Would you do that?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark.”

As soon as the words were out, Tony’s shoulders slumped a little and Peter felt guilty for letting him down. Nonetheless, Tony’s hand continued to play with his hair, occasionally brushing against his forehead as they sat in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm AWARE that they have yet to leave the apartment i am AWARE


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyyyyy so i'm probably going to start updating either on tuesdays or thursdays bc i'm at school for 12 HOURS on wednesdays just a heads up ok enjoy

They didn’t talk after that. Silence took over the room, but a comfortable one now. After half an hour, Peter closed his eyes and Tony didn’t move until he was sure that Peter was asleep. He wasn’t sure how much sleep Peter was getting on his own and the reassurance of actually seeing for himself that the kid was getting rest was huge. With a sigh, Tony pulled his hand away, but stayed on the bed. 

Peter’s comment from before had made him beyond nervous.

Logically, he knew that Peter needed to get out of the house and talk to other people, preferably a therapist, but all he wanted to do was to wrap the kid in blankets and make him hot chocolate and protect him from the rest of the world. A small part of his mind told him that if he couldn’t handle Peter being alone in his room, he would never be able to handle the kid swinging through the city by himself in the middle of the night, literally chasing trouble and danger. 

Oh god, how could he handle that? Spiderman would need to take a break for a little bit if Tony wanted at least some color in his graying hair.

*****

By the next day, Tony had decided that he needed to get Peter out of the house, be it fear or something else that motivated him.

He woke the teenager up at eight and told him to pack for the weekend, brushing aside the protests he was handed. Guilt chewed him up as he watched the dejected slump of Peter’s shoulders as he packed, but he reminded himself that this was to help and not hurt him. 

The plan was to spend the weekend at the tower, check up on the team to see how they were functioning without him and fix whatever they had most likely managed to break. It was also an excuse to get Peter out of the house. 

“I’m ready,” Peter stood in the doorway of the living room, an old and faded duffel bag sitting at his feet. He didn’t look happy.He looked nervous. 

“Great.” Tony stood from the sofa and clapped his hands together. He smiled and it was only partially forced.He really did miss his penthouse in the tower. “I just called Happy, he should be here soon.”

Peter hesitated but nodded. “Who’s at the tower?”

Tony, not wanting to show Peter exactly how worried he was about the whole experience, shrugged. “Not sure. I know…I know Cap is there.” He sucked in a breath. “And birdbrains one and two.” 

Peter frowned. 

“Clint and Sam.” He clarified. “Pretty sure Brucie is there, as well as Rhodey so that’s a relief. I think Nat’s in Singapore right now.” 

Peter looked a little taken aback by the number. 

“It’s not too many kiddie, you’ll be okay. Besides, you can probably stay in the penthouse for most of the time, we don’t even need to talk to them.I just need to make sure everything’s working well.”

Again, Peter nodded. He sat on the couch beside Tony and stared at the blank TV screen.

Tony wondered what his own parents thought of him when he was Peter’s age. Were they as confused and scared of him as Tony was of Peter?The uncertainty, the need to protect, the utter lack of knowledge as to what he was thinking? 

For a moment, Tony was hit with panic as he realized that he really knew nothing about Peter’s childhood. He didn’t know the important details that normal guardians should know.Was he allergic to anything? Did he have a favorite restaurant? He didn’t even know what the kid had been up to in the past few months, having not wanted to butt into a normal kid’s life and screw it up as he normally did. 

The teenager was a complete stranger.

Tony’s phone lit up with a text and he stood up before checking it. “Happy’s here.You got all your stuff?”

Peter pointed to the duffel bag.

“That’s it?”

“It’s only the weekend, isn’t it?”

Tony shrugged. He wanted to tell Peter that the bag at his feet was hideous, but he couldn’t tell if it was ratty because they couldn’t afford a better bag or if it somehow held memories with his parents or uncle or aunt. He decided that it was better to just shut his mouth.

Happy met them outside, taking Peter’s bag from him with a friendly smile and Tony was glad that he wasn’t making a big deal about anything. He didn’t want Peter feeling singled out or put on the spot. 

Peter smiled back, reaching out to give Happy a fist bump that the man actually reciprocated. They even did the little exploding hands thing. They didn’t say anything, but they each had smiles on their faces when they parted and Peter climbed into the backseat. 

Tony went around the other side of the car to climb in and Happy caught his elbow.

“How’s the kid?”

“We’re managing.” Tony said, “We’re...managing.” And got in the car. 

Happy got in and drove off without another comment and Tony relaxed against the seat. He rarely sat in the back of a car; The only times he hadn’t recently were when he was with Peter for whatever reason.

Nobody talked for most of the drive over, even though it wasn’t an entirely long drive. Peter pressed his shoulder against Tony’s despite there being more than enough room for them in the backseat, and Tony didn’t pull away. If Peter hadn’t been leaning against him, though, Tony knew that he would be fidgeting. 

He was nervous to see the team again, not only for Peter’s sake, but for his own nerves. 

Besides the actual fear of seeing everyone again, there was also the knowledge that they would most likely try to brush past it as they usually did their problems. Which meant everyone acting as normal as they could. Which meant jokes at Tony’s expense. 

For years, it had been a running joke that Tony Stark was not a family person. He was terrible at emotional connections and he ended up being the butt of most jokes that pertained to that. It never really hurt, per se, but he was dreading the reactions of the team upon figuring out the new situation if they did. 

Of course, there would be the ‘are you really serious about this’ questions. The, ‘isn’t this out of character for you’ questions.The, ‘don’t you think you’re making a mistake’ questions. More than anything, Tony feared that if he heard the comments, he would begin to doubt himself.

He knew he wasn’t doing an amazing job with Peter. They hadn’t connected enough, Peter clearly didn’t trust him all the way, and they had been living in their little depression bubble for days now. He knew that he was most likely going to be a shitty paren---guardian, thanks to Howard’s A+ parenting, but it hurt to be reminded of that.

The car went over a speed bump and Peter jostled closer into Tony’s side. He didn’t move away and Tony lifted his arm up behind the kid’s head to distractedly pull his hair from his eyes. 

The parenting books that he had spent hours reading had told him that some kids seek physical comfort after trauma, while others distance themselves completely from the people that they were close to. Tony suspected that Peter was a little of both, the way he sometimes avoided and then suddenly wouldn’t let go of Tony’s shirt. 

He hadn’t gotten nervous around Happy when they had gotten picked up. Despite what Happy complained to Tony about, he knew that the two of them were friends.Once, Tony had caught Happy eating a churro in the garage, a sticky note still stuck on the wrapping with a ‘For Happy :)’ scribbled on it. Happy had rolled his eyes when Tony had pointed it out, but it was obvious that he was pleased with the gift. 

Yes, Peter and Happy were friends. Familiar in the way that Tony hadn’t experienced in months and was only a little bit jealous of. 

Tony caught Happy’s eye in the mirror and Happy raised his eyebrows at him. 

_‘You good?’_

Tony shrugged and looked away. Happy knew him too well. Besides, he knew it was a stupid thing to be self-conscious about. 

“How you feeling, kid?”

Peter immediately shrugged. “They don’t know about Spiderman, right?” 

Tony was pretty sure he had asked that exact question at least four times now. “No, they don’t know.Only Happy and I know.” 

“Do I have to tell them?”

Happy spoke up from the front seat. “You don’t have to tell anyone anything.”

Tony shot him an annoyed look. Supportive adult guardian was his job title. “Yes, what Happy kindly interrupted.”

When they pulled up to the tower, Happy went to park the car and Tony and Peter entered the elevator. 

“We’re just going to my penthouse.” Tony assured.The tension was back in Peter’s shoulders. “No interaction with the team right now.”They entered the elevator. 

“Welcome home, Boss.” 

“Hey Fri, Penthouse, please.” 

The elevator started up and Peter gripped the handrail tight.

Tony eyed him. “This isn’t Willy Wonka kid, this elevator goes up and down only.”

It was meant as a joke, but Peter just nodded. 

“Fri, make sure Peter has full access to the tower.”

“Of course.” The disembodied voice in the elevator was pleasant. “Welcome back, Peter.”

“Thanks.”

Tony could tell that he was getting nervous, even though he had assured him that there would be no meet and greet in the near future. Before he could start figuring out if the team had broken his entire tower, the first thing on his mind was to get Peter unpacked and comfortable. Get him to feel at home and then he could deal with the unruly adult children that happened to live there as well.

As they reached the penthouse and the elevator slowed, Tony put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. 

The doors opened.

Nearly the entire population of the Avenger’s tower turned to look at them.

Peter’s shoulders tensed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooooooooooo what's gonna happen next !!! 
> 
> I'm very much enjoying your comments you guys are so SWEET THANK YOU!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy what's gonna happen

Any and every reassurance that Tony Stark had handed him on the drive over that Peter wouldn’t have to meet anyone new when they arrived was rendered useless as he was suddenly faced with the entire Avengers team.

“Tony!” Falcon, dear god above, that was Falcon. “You’re back!”

The whole crowd was settled in Tony’s living room, taking over the couches and stools at the breakfast bar. They were dressed in casual clothes--sweats and t-shirts and Hawkeye wore a sweater. 

Their faces showed apprehension for a moment, the whole team silent and alert, waiting to see what would happen…and then every single one of them turned their eyes to Peter. 

Peter, on the other hand, had his eyes on the floor in a second and his hands found each other to pick at his nails. 

_You don’t have to tell anyone anything, you don’t have to tell anyone anything…_

He inched just a tiny bit further behind Tony. 

“Tones…” Colonel Rhodes was there, suddenly looking very serious and a quick glance up showed him not looking at Peter. He was watching Tony with a sort of intensity and the careful hand on Peter’s shoulder proved that Tony was getting nervous. “Is this…?”

“What the _hell_ are you all doing in my house?”

At Tony’s sudden shout, the team had the decency to look embarrassed to be there. Peter was still quite frozen where he stood, the judgmental eyes of his heroes burning into him as he tried not to make eye contact with any of them, as well as not appear as a helpless kid in front of them. What would Tony say to get them out of this?Peter wasn’t sure he wanted everyone to know about May and him and Tony and whatever the hell had happened to them over the past few days.Tony wouldn’t tell them. Would he?

“You were gone for a long time.”

And holy shit that was Captain America. Peter wondered fearfully for a moment if he would recognize him by voice alone. The kid from Queens.The kid from Brooklyn.He didn’t open his mouth to say a word. From what he had heard, he and Tony were on rough ground after Sokovia. Being in the same room as them, Peter almost shrank back into the elevator from the tension alone.

“So you moved into my house?” Tony sounded pissed and he gripped Peter’s shoulder hard. “I’ve been gone longer.”

Hawkeye muttered something under his breath and shrugged. Black Widow halfway laughed, but it seemed to only set Tony off again.

“I’m sorry,” Tony was loud again. “Is something _funny_ about this?” When no one answered, he sighed and pointed towards the elevator. “Out.Everyone out._Now_.”

Colonel Rhodes stood his ground as everyone else filed out, every single one of them shooting Peter a look, Sam even going so far as to point out Tony’s hand on Peter’s shoulder before leaving. 

Through the contact on his shoulder, though, Peter could feel the minute trembling of his mentor’s hand, a desperate grip to stay calm. Seeing him so on edge ignited something small and protective in Peter. Something angry.

After the doors closed on the team, Tony turned to Rhodey with a defeated slump of his shoulders. 

“Rhodes----”

“I deserve an explanation.”

Peter’s breath caught in his throat. God, he just wanted to hide. This was not what he had agreed to when coming with Tony to the tower; he hadn’t signed up to be humiliated in front of nearly all of his heroes.

Rhodey sat down at the breakfast bar and looked at Tony with something that made the actual Tony Stark look away. “Well?”

Tony released Peter’s shoulder and ruffled his hair instead, but kept up the contact between them. “Give me a bit.” 

And he guided Peter down the hall, grabbing the duffel bag from the floor on his way out. 

*****

Peter’s heart was pounding. He watched Tony drop his bag on the bed---the same bed he had stayed in the night May had…

“You alright there?” Tony watched him with a look mixed with concern and curiosity, despite clearly having been just as freaked out only minutes before. “I swear I didn’t know they were all going to be up here.”

Peter nodded. He knew it wasn’t Tony’s fault, but it had scared him all the same. “I wasn’t expecting that, is all.”

Tony scoffed, bitter. “Yeah. Neither did I.Fri, make sure…” he gestured to the door. “…_they_ aren’t allowed up here without me or Peter to chaperone.”

“Noted, Boss.” She sounded apologetic.

Peter sat on the bed and fiddled with the zipper on his bag. “Are you…are you going to tell them?”

Tony shook his head, puffing out a big breath. “‘Course not.” Whether he was talking about Spiderman or May was left unsaid. “That’s yours to talk about.”

Nodding, Peter laid back on the bed in a way that very oddly mirrored their first night after the accident. At least he wasn’t covered in blood this time.The thought sent cold shivers running up and down his arms and he curled up onto his side, facing Tony. 

Tony stood next to the bed, phone in hand and frowning at something on the screen. He shook his head, then started furiously texting something while Peter watched him silently. 

Tony was seething. Peter had very rarely seen him this thrown off, and, while it was a little scary to see him crack like that, Peter was selfishly relieved that he wasn’t the only one affected. It was good to see that he wasn’t alone. 

Logically, he knew that he was probably overreacting about the whole experience. In any other circumstance, he’d be thrilled to meet his heroes (or, the people who used to be his heroes)—but meeting them while feeling like his head weighed a million pounds and wanting nothing more than to just sleep forever had not been a good idea.

Tony sighed and put his phone away, sitting down on the chair near the bed and focusing on Peter. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

His full and undivided attention was on Peter, and he knew that he should probably use the time to actually open up and talk to the one adult in his life that he even halfway trusted, but his mouth stayed closed. What right did he have, complaining about a little freakout?May was dead.That’s what he should be having a breakdown about.Peter nodded instead, still lying on his side and reaching for a pillow to hug tight to his chest. 

What if he never cried over May? What if he went his whole life without shedding another tear for the woman who had raised him? Would the hurt just go away someday and leave him to move on?

The thought of that happening filled his stomach with a heavy guilt.

Tony was watching him.

“I’m just tired.” Peter told him, doing his best to sound genuine. It wasn’t hard. 

“You want to sleep for a bit?” Tony leaned forward. “I can go get food.”

Peter hesitated. Tony going to get food meant Tony leaving. He did _not_ want Tony to leave, not now that he knew the tower was crawling with people. People who had made _Tony Stark _nervous. 

“Or…” Peter felt himself being watched as Tony continued. “I’ll just hang out here for a bit.Food can wait, right?”

Peter nodded, the guilt and the newly acquired selfish relief battling it out inside of him. He knew that at some point, he needed to deal with everything, face facts, somehow climb his way out of the chasm of self-pity that he had fallen into.

But for the moment he lay on the bed that wasn’t his and kept his eyes on Mr. Stark’s knee to avoid eye contact. He figured that was all he could do.

*****

Tony waited until he was sure that Peter was asleep before covering him with the blanket folded at the foot of the bed and sneaking out of the room. 

“Friday, baby, let me know when he wakes up.”

“You got it, Boss.”

When he got to the living room again, Tony’s heart simultaneously sank and soared when he saw that Rhodey was still there.

“Thought you would’ve gotten bored and left by now.” Tony set to work cleaning up (his!) dishes from the living room floor where the team had left them. Napkins were also everywhere, but at least they had been used. 

“Yeah, what’d you do, sing him to sleep?”

Tony glared at his friend, who laughed.

“Did you actually?”

“No!” Tony dumped the dishes in the sink. “I…”He shook his head.“Kid’s asleep. What do you want?”

“What do you think I want?” Rhodes pocketed his phone and got down from the bar chair. “What the hell is going on with you, Tones?You’re being downright parental with this kid, who is he?”

He shrugged, playing hopelessly for nonchalance, “I don’t see why you care so much.”

Rhodey laughed again, “Dude, you are the least likely out of any of us to bring in some poor sad and, I’m assuming, orphan from the streets.”

“Don’t say that to me, an actual poor sad orphan from the streets. Well,”Tony dropped some trash in the bin.“The sad orphan bit.”

“You’re avoiding the subject.”

“Look.” Tony pressed his palms against the counter and leaned forward, looking his best friend in the eye. It was easy to talk to Rhodey, as it always had been. The anxiety from earlier had started to die down. He realized absently that it was the quiet calm he had occupied in Peter’s room that had chased it away. “He works for me.His last living family member died.He would have been put in the system had I not dropped in.”

“You can’t just adopt a kid to save him from the system!” Rhodey’s voice was getting louder.

“That’s how all of adoption works, asshole.” Tony hissed, pointing down the hall.“And he’s finally sleeping, so keep your voice down.”

Rhodey shook his head, “I can’t believe you, man.”

“You don’t have to.” Tony crossed his arms and did his best to look like he meant it. “Don’t bother the kid.And don’t question him either.Just let him be.”

“You know that’s an entire child in there, right? An actual human being? Who needs more than just money?”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“And I’m assuming it’s the kid you called me about the other day, which means you’re dealing with a kid that’s been severely emotionally damaged. One that you were scared of committing suicide? Who hadn’t cried?”Rhodey shook his head.“You and I barely deal with shit, Tones, how the hell are you planning on helping a child deal with it?”

Tony shrugged. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Like you figured out your own problems?”

Anger burned bright in Tony’s chest, a slight betrayal that his best friend was very much not on board with the situation. “Why are you so against this? It’s not your problem to worry about. You don’t have an extremely powerful fiance who doesn’t even know about him yet---”

“You haven’t told Pepper?!”

“Uh,” Tony chewed on his lip. “No. I have about a week before she comes home, right? I can work stuff out by then. Right?”

Rhodey laughed, “It’s been nice knowing you man. You want red flowers at your funeral, or yellow?”

“Not funny.”

“Kind of funny.”

Tony shot his friend a look, then dropped his head down in defeat.

“Alright.” Rhodey agreed, softer. “Not funny.”

They stood in silence for a moment.

“His aunt died a few days ago.” Tony started. Rhodey had a right to know, he

figured. He trusted Rhodey. He was family.“I got a call from the hospital, right? And I went right over to get him, because they like, mentioned putting him in the system on the phone and I ...” _Panicked_. “Well, you know I couldn’t do that to him.”

“Wait,” The colonel shook his head. “Why’d the hospital call you?”

Tony really should have gotten his story under control before he started talking. “I knew the family. Through…through the kid’s internship. Since the aunt was the only one left…” he shrugged.“I didn’t think I’d ever actually have to, you know, step in.

“So I brought the kid back to his place and we’ve been in a kind of spiral since then. He won’t…”Tony pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, feeling the beginnings of a breakdown, but he pushed them away. He couldn’t do that now, not when Peter still definitely needed him to hold it together.Taking in a deep breath, he continued. “He won’t talk to me, man. I can see that he’s hurting, but he won’t talk to me.”

Rhodey seemed to have caught on that the conversation had taken a more serious turn, and sat back in the bar chair. “Are you sure he wanted you to swoop in and save him?”

Tony nearly sputtered, “Of course. I know the kid.He knows me.He’s….he’s…” _Family_? 

“Alright.” Rhodey relented. “Alright. What are you going to tell the rest of the team?”

“Nothing.” Tony said firmly, and a little bitterly. “I shouldn’t have even told you this. If he asks, I didn’t say anything to you, got it?”

“Of course.” Rhodey got up off the chair and came around the counter to Tony. He clapped him on the back.“If you need me to, I dunno, pick up diapers from the store or something, you just let me know, okay?”

Tony laughed, of course he laughed, and leaned into his friend’s touch. “Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! Ya'll genuinely seem to like it omg you're so sweet


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's also kinda slow i'm warning you nowwww  
also can u tell that i really like pepper

Peter—somehow—stayed asleep. Tony guessed that he had tired himself out from the anxiety and stress of the day, and had at some point, curled himself even more around the pillows from the guest room. 

It was cute. Tony could admit it. He looked like…god, he looked like a kid, hugging that pillow like it was a teddy bear. 

Tony had removed his shoes, but ultimately left him to rest while he went to deal with the cause of Peter’s stress. Or, at least a small part of it.

When redesigning the tower, Tony had made sure to give everyone their own rooms, as well as design a common area with a kitchen. It apparently was the most used room in the tower, if the number of people in it was any indication. 

The entire team was lounging around in the room, making a general sort of racket that Tony was glad to have away from the sleeping, traumatized, teenager up in his penthouse. Rhodey had rejoined the group, but he kept carefully quiet and reserved once Tony entered the room.

Confronting the team on his own terms felt different, _better_ than it had when they had caught him by surprise. It was stress-inducing, yes, to see them again, but the initial shock had worn off. Still, he was glad to see that Steve wasn’t in the room. 

“So, who the hell said you all could take over my floor while I was gone?”

Clint didn’t look up at Tony, keeping his eyes on the arm wrestling competition with Nat that he was currently losing. “Who the hell doesn’t answer their phone for almost a week straight?”

“Unfair.” Tony pointed at him, heading straight to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since Peter had eaten, but he figured he should bring something back up to the room. Besides, it was something to do with his hands. “I was preoccupied.”

“With a kid?” Sam followed Tony to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as Tony buried his head in the fridge. “Tony, who is he?”

“Not important. What _is _important is—”

“Important enough to drop off the map for a few days?” Sam wasn’t letting up and, although Tony was glad they were talking again after the whole “Civil War” thing, he was starting to remember the petty arguments that they used to get into. He didn’t miss them a whole lot.

Tony looked up from the fridge, ingredients for a sandwich piled in his hands. His patience for the team was running short, but he wasn’t sure if it was the tension still between them or that fierce sort of protectiveness that seemed to be following him around these days. “Listen.Shit happened, alright? He’s staying with me for a bit.It’s not a big deal.”

He neglected to mention that Peter was going to be staying with him for longer than just “a bit”. That wasn’t any of their business. 

“Except that it is!” Clint had lost the arm wrestling game, but didn’t seem surprised or bothered that he had. “You don’t like anyone, Tony, except for maybe Pepper and that’s only so she’ll do your work for you!”

“Hey!” Tony dropped the food on the counter. “I like Pepper _because_ she does my work for me.” He almost smiled, falling easily into the back and forth that they had all been so used to. He was hit with the shock of what he was doing, and brushed it off. “That’s a joke.Don’t anyone repeat that.”

“The kid, Stark.” Nat walked up as well. The entire team was paying attention to him now. “Who is he?”

“He’s…” Tony hesitated, before starting the sandwich. A way to distract his hands from fidgeting, as they were prone to. “An intern.Like I said.”He felt everyone's eyes on him.“But he recently…found himself alone and since he’s only——”

“Nine?”

“He’s sixteen.” Tony corrected, setting aside a sandwich and starting a second. 

Sam looked skeptical. “You know he’s an actual human being, right? This isn’t something you can just——”

“Throw money at?” Tony scoffed,“Yeah, I know. You’re not the first one to mention that.” He shot a pointed look at Rhodey, who had the decency to look embarrassed about his lackluster enthusiasm for the situation. 

As Tony started the third sandwich, Clint muttered a, “Hungry much?” that wasn’t at all quiet.

“It’s for the kid.” Tony scowled at him, his defenses raising again. “Can you guys just calm down?This isn’t the end of the world here, okay?” He shrugged.“And keep out of my room, I think you all scared him.”

Clint scoffed. “Earth’s mightiest heroes. Scaring a poor teenager.”

“Yeah. Thanks for that.” Tony stacked the sandwiches and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge as well. “Just let him be, okay?He’s been through enough.”He sighed and paused for a moment, feeling the entire team’s eyes on him. 

There was, for a moment, a longing for everything to just be back to normal. As tense as it was between them all, Tony loved them and he missed the simple joy of having a team like that by his side. 

He lowered the sandwich plate and water bottle, taking in the worried expressions of what used to be his family. 

“Just…”He couldn’t find the words to satisfy the worried and curious looks of his teammates. “He’s been through enough.”

And he left, feeling their stares on his back and wishing for what was certainly not the first time that he could just find the right words to talk to someone.

*****

Tony shouldn’t have been surprised when he got an ‘urgent’ call from Pepper at 4 in the morning. He should have known better than to try to keep something from his fiancé in the first place. 

“Boss, you have a call from Pepper Potts.” Friday didn’t even try to be quiet or to wake Tony up slowly, not when Pepper was on the line. It was like the AI knew that Tony would be in for it if he didn’t pick up. 

“I’ll call her back.” It was too early. The sun hadn’t even come up yet! Okay, it was definitely up, if the clock by his bed had anything to say about it, but the heavy curtains kept the room decidedly dark. “Tell her I’m busy. And where’s Peter.” Lately, Peter’s whereabouts and wellbeing were the only things on Tony’s mind. Had he eaten? Gotten out of bed? Had he stubbed his toe? 

“Peter is currently still in bed. It appears he’s on his phone.”

“Good, good.” The confirmation that he was okay settled a little anxiety in Tony’s chest that he hadn’t even known was there. 

There was a pause in which Tony actually thought that the distraction had worked, until: “Boss, I would advise for you to pick up. Miss Potts seems very persistent.”

With a groan and a roll of his eyes, Tony sat up, rubbing his face and waving the okay to the AI. “Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Instead of Friday answering, the room was instead filled with Pepper Potts’ voice. Tony found himself smiling at the sound of it, missing the first few words as he realized, not for the first time, that he really did miss her. 

“——Find out from Rhodey! Rhodey, Tony!”

“Baby, baby, hold on—“ Tony fought for control over the conversation, annoyed that he had let the beginning of it get away from him. “What are you talking about, what’s wrong with Rhodey?”

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Rhodey’s fine, but frankly, I’m a little concerned about you. He said you have an intern living at the tower with you?”

It was a question and an accusation and Tony was weak against it, especially coming from Pepper. 

“I…yes.” 

“Tony!” 

“I know!” He dropped back against the pillows. It was in moments like these where he was thankful for the soundproof walls in his room. He didn’t want Peter hearing anything about this. The kid would roll himself into a rug of guilt and probably stay there for years. 

“You can’t just adopt whoever you want, whenever you want! The house is full of things a kid could get into! And not to mention the lab! I mean, did you even think this through? Who is this kid? And why does Rhodey know about him before I do?”

She was mad, and rightfully so. Tony needed to clear up the facts, but given that the facts were that he had panicked and practically adopted a kid from out of nowhere, he wasn’t sure how strong his case was going to be. 

“Are you even listening?” Pepper was still going. 

“Baby, I know this looks bad.” Tony started, and Pepper scoffed in the background, a sound so familiar that he almost wanted to smile. “But there is an explanation.”

“Oh, please enlighten me.”

He sighed. He’d really rather be doing this in person. Maybe with Peter there, so he could charm Pepper with his big puppy dog eyes. Lord knew he already had Tony wrapped around his finger. 

“An…intern of mine.” He started. “He recently lost his aunt. Hit and run.”

“Okay…”

“She was his only living relative, left him with a shitty little apartment, a bunch of debt, and major trauma. Poor kid had nowhere else to go. The hospital called me and—“

“Hold on, why on earth would the hospital call you? How do you even know this kid? I know for a fact that you’ve never even talked to an intern, much less were willing to do _this_ for one.” 

Tony hesitated, for a moment unsure how to explain without giving away the whole truth. Peter didn’t need everyone knowing everything about him. “I knew the family.”

Pepper immediately sighed. “Oh god, Tony. Please tell me the truth, is he yours?”

The question was asked so blatantly that Tony choked, “Fuck. What?”

She sighed again, “Look, if he’s old enough to be an intern, got an in _as_ an intern, and you “knew the family” as you say…I know your history, Stark, lord knows I know far too much about you. He’d be what, 15? The numbers line up, Tony.”

“Hey now.” Tony feigned hurt. “You did that math real quick.”

“You forget I was the best damn assistant you ever had.”

“I couldn’t forget that. You still love me, though, right?”

“Let’s figure out this whole situation and we’ll see.” He wished she was there with him; she was so much easier to read when he could see her face. Not easy to read, per se, but easier. “So, is he yours?”

Tony waited, wanting to see if she’d break. Sure enough, there was a pause and then, “Yes, Tony, I still love you.” 

Despite hearing the words often and truthfully, they still made his chest go warm. “Love you too, Miss Potts.” He allowed himself to smile at their back and forth. Honestly, how had he ever even lived before he had met her? “And no, he is not my son. He’s just…_alone_.” His heart ached for Peter Parker. “Pep, the kid has no one. I picked him up from the hospital and—“ his throat felt tight as he remembered the way Peter’s face had gone blank, composed, as Tony led him away from the hospital that night. “I can’t walk away from him. I can’t.”

There was momentary silence on the other end. “Have you thought this through?”

_No_. “Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

_No. _“Maybe?”

“Okay. So, he’s staying with us until, what, he finds another home? Are we waiting on a particular set up? I’m guessing you’re not down for a group home situation.” The words weren’t meant to hurt, but Tony flinched at them all the same. 

“What? No, Pep, I was…well honestly I was thinking about adopting him.”

And there they were. The words he hadn’t allowed himself to say aloud, much less tell anyone. They were big, scary words, words that he didn’t think he’d ever be saying in his lifetime. But now, with them applying to one Peter Parker, he found that he was sure of them. Scared, yes, but sure nonetheless. 

“Adoption.”

“Yes.” 

“Oh.” Pepper hesitated. 

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a moment, in which Tony found himself suddenly unsure of everything. Pepper was right, adoption was a big decision. That would mean he would be in charge of Peter for…years. Technically, he’d only legally be in Tony’s custody for another two years, but Tony knew that adoption meant parenthood. For life. He was signing himself and Pepper up for an entire lifetime of looking out for someone that he kind of knew and Pepper didn’t know at all. 

Tony really hadn’t wanted to have this conversation while still in his pajamas. 

“Tony—“ 

“Look. I know this is a fast decision,” Tony forced out, suddenly feeling the need to get his argument out before he lost. “and I know it’s not just my life I’m turning upside down with this—“ he hoped the kid was somewhere far away and was not listening in on the conversation— “I should have talked to you first. It’s your house too and…and….” 

And what? Would he turn Peter away if Pepper didn’t want him? After all, with them engaged, Peter would be Pepper’s as well. Teenagers were a lot of work, he knew that, and Peter was like, double the work, what with Spiderman and all. Was Pepper willing to go through with this? What if he had to lose the kid? He loved Pepper, more than anything in the whole world, but at the same time, he imaged Peter. His triumphant laugh as he figured out some new tech, the way he’d stop to talk to Happy despite how the man claimed they weren’t friends…how the kid had clung to him that first night at the hospital. 

“Tony calm down, breathe for me, honey.”

He breathed deep, wishing more than anything that Pepper was there with him. She always knew how to calm him down. 

“I can’t get rid of him, Pep.” He gasped out, “I’m not going to. I can’t let someone else have him and take him away—“

“Honey, I’m not going to make you leave him.” 

The words were like ice water on a hot day, instantly soothing what was starting to become a very real worry. 

“I should have asked you first.” He apologized. “I know you didn’t think we’d be having kids anytime soon, much less a 16 year old one.” He laughed a little, thankful that Pepper joined in, but he sobered up quickly, his laugh quickly turning into a small sigh. “He’s hurt, baby.” He said softly, feeling like a weight was taken off of his shoulders. “He’s so, so sad. I don’t know what to do.” 

It was a soft admittance. 

Pepper sighed. “I’m coming home early.” She said in her ‘don’t argue with me’ voice. “Sound good?”

Tony nodded. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” She said softly. “We still have a lot to talk about, though.” 

Tony winced, but he knew it was fair. “Of course.”

“This is…” Pepper, for once, seemed at a loss for words. “It’s a lot, honey. This is huge.” 

“I know.”

“And you know I’m behind you on everything—well, okay, most things that you do.” 

Tony laughed a little. 

“This is just something we’re going to be working extra hard for, right? We’ve gotta be a team for this kid.” She paused for a second. “What’s his name?”

Tony smiled softly, despite himself. “Peter.” He said, “Peter Parker.”

Pepper exhaled, “Peter Parker. Okay.”

“I love you, Pep.”

“You too, honey. Will that be all Mr. Stark?”

Tony smiled.

“That will be all, Miss Potts.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY so i MIGHT have to take a break from posting for a bit?? Maybe?? I'm drowning under new projects and school and stuff


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyyyy folks the world has gone MAD hasn't it??? my mom came home with 20 lbs of rice the other day lmao i hope all of you are doing well! It's a weird ass time to be alive rn.

The time spent at the tower went quickly. Tony did his work mostly in the penthouse, which Peter was grateful for. 

Even when he did his best to keep Tony at bay, it was unbelievably hard to be alone. When they had still been at the apartment, Peter had spent his time locked in his room with Tony carefully kept outside, but after one too many times being held and comforted, Peter was unable to go back to the stoic, ‘perfectly okay’ person he tried to be. It was like he would have been okay keeping everything bottled up inside had it not been for Tony’s ready willingness to comfort him. 

He _needed_ comfort, and it took him longer than it should have to occur to him. If Tony was on the couch, Peter found endless comfort by just sitting on the other end of the couch and keeping Tony in his sight. It was frustrating to no end.He needed time alone!He shouldn’t be going to Tony for comfort right after May had ...died. 

It was still hard to even think about. Sometimes, Peter would pick up his phone, half expecting to have gotten a text from May, asking where he was and why he was out for so long. He wished more than anything that her name would pop up on his missed calls list. 

The small seed of guilt had seemed to grow inside of his chest. Every time he pressed his shoulder against Tony’s while they watched TV, every time he felt relief that Tony was even in the _room_, Peter felt guilty just in the fact that he had so easily moved on to him for comfort. He wasn’t supposed to _get_ comfort, he was supposed to be sad and crying! How dare he throw himself at the first and only semi willing parental figure in his life, so soon after he had lost the last? 

Thankfully, Tony seemed to have caught on that Peter was indeed a mess. He would sometimes see that Peter was nearby and move closer, sometimes explaining to him what work he was doing on his tablet or phone, talking business and professionalism to a teenager who really didn’t care, but would rather spend the day with the rest of the Avengers than move away from the press of his mentor’s shoulder against his. 

Peter’s fidgeting calmed down, his mind was able to rest; Tony was becoming a sort of comfort blanket. It was, Peter decided, a dangerous game to be playing. Although depressing, he had found in his very few years on earth that if he got close to an adult who cared about him, they weren’t long for the world. Four parents later, and Peter found genuine fear in putting his trust in Tony. 

Tony was a constant. He had been Peter’s hero since he was seven years old, and from the moment they had met in person, Tony had always—well, usually—been there for him. That was supposed to be comforting, someone always being there for you was supposed to feel _good_.

But it didn’t. It just felt scary, like he was putting his trust in melting ice. 

Whenever Peter’s chest ached or his memories of May threatened to overwhelm him, the need to be with someone, to be held and comforted, swelled. Seeing as Tony seemed to be willing to be that person for him, Peter found himself trying to get closer to him.Following him into a room, sitting on the counter while Tony cooked. Even if they didn’t talk, there was comfort in being with someone.

With Tony, it should be easy to be with him. It felt like he had always been there…just like Ben and May had always been there. Just like Peter’s parents had always been there, before they disappeared forever.By that screwed up, horrible logic, Tony would leave Peter Parker within a few years. 

No matter how many times Tony assured Peter that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he was there to stay and that he wasn’t leaving, Peter couldn’t bring himself to believe him. It was too similar to what he had been told by all four parental figures who had all left him in some form or another before he was sixteen. 

Even Peter knew that was fucked up.

So even as he sat beside Tony as breakfast was being cooked or if they sat on the couch side by side, the only thought in Peter’s mind was _it’s temporary, don’t get used to it_. It hurt, but he figured it would probably hurt more once it actually was over. 

He found himself in a constant state of needing Tony by his side (just to make sure that he actually _was_ still there) and simultaneously trying to push him away so that his departure at a later date would be less painful. It was exhausting.

The afternoon of the second day tested which side was stronger. 

Peter woke up from a nap around three-thirty, disoriented and feeling overwhelmed. He had dreamed of someone——he wasn’t sure who it was—leaving.He remembered crying in the dream, but when he woke up, his eyes were dry. That was no surprise.He hadn’t been able to muster a tear since the hospital and he was genuinely beginning to fear that he would never cry for his aunt. What kind of nephew (or son, really) would he be if he couldn’t even properly grieve for the only family member that he had left? 

The dream left him feeling lonely and needing some sort of comfort that being around his hero always seemed to remedy. As he explored the hallways and rooms that were steadily becoming more and more familiar, Peter’s breath hitched when he realized that Tony wasn’t in the penthouse at all. It shouldn’t have been alarming, as he knew that Tony left to do work sometimes.He couldn’t be so selfish that he demanded that Tony never leave his sight. 

He tried settling on the couch and hugging a pillow to his chest in a sort of mock attempt at comfort, but ended up just feeling pathetic, hugging a pillow and trying to cry. After nearly half an hour of not being able to calm down enough, Peter began eyeing the elevator doors and wondering how far away Tony was. He didn’t particularly _want_ to leave the penthouse, because there was a very real chance of him running into one of the Avengers, something he did not want to do. On top of being humiliated in front of them a few days ago, he had picked up on Tony’s apprehension of them as well. If Tony obviously didn’t feel safe around them, Peter sure as hell didn’t. 

The longer he sat there, though, the less pressing the fear became as his need to be comforted grew. Maybe he could try to find him and pretend that he was looking for something else and not something as simple as a hug. 

Yes, that would work. That would be enough.

With an embarrassingly shaky voice, Peter called out, “Friday?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker?”

Peter jumped at the sudden voice. “Um, you could call me Peter.”

“Of course, Peter.” Somehow, the AI seemed happy to call him that.

“Where’s Mr. Stark?”

“Mr. Stark is currently in a meeting on the 23rd floor.” 

Peter’s heart sunk.

“Would you like me to call him for you?”

“No!” Peter waved his hands a little, as if that would have any effect on the AI. “It’s fine.I’ll see him later.”

“Peter, it seems that you’re experiencing signs of anxiety.” Friday continued, “I would suggest trying to calm down, or find someone to help. Do you want me to call someone for you?”

Peter’s mind went directly to May and he swallowed hard. “It’s fine, Friday, I’ll be fine.”He pulled in a shaky breath. “Listen, could you take me to the floor that Mr. Stark is on?I’ll wait for him to get out.”

Friday opened the elevator doors, but warned him, “Mr. Stark will be in his meeting until 4:30, Peter.”

“It’s fine.”

That seemed to be Peter’s favorite response to anything these days. 

He stepped into the elevator, noticing too late that he was still barefoot and had on his NYC shirt that Tony had bought him all those months ago. It was embarrassing and Tony had laughed out loud for nearly a minute when he had seen Peter wearing it as a sleep shirt, but it was comfortable.Oh well. Tony had seen him in worse.Peter pushed the thought of the hello kitty pajama pants out of his mind.

When the doors of the elevator opened, Peter was fully ready to sit his ass down outside the door and wait for someone to turn the handle of the room and then pretend that he was just walking by. With what he was wearing, he was really hoping that this meeting would be one of those hologram ones, so that it’d only be Tony seeing him like that. 

The moment the elevator doors opened though, Peter found himself face to chest with the one and only star-spangled man.

“Oh!”

“_Jesus_!”

Steve recovered first. “Peter, right?”He smiled and looked genuinely pleased to see the half pajama-clad teenager. “Steve Rogers.”He held out his hand and introduced himself like he wasn’t an international war hero who had been famous for nearly a century. Also, the man whose name made Iron Man nervous.

Peter, still shocked with his face turning more and more red by the second, could only stare. Captain America’s smile flickered and suddenly Peter could move. “Peter!”He burst out, “I’m uh,” He looked down at his feet and nearly choked when he saw the New York shirt, “Peter Parker.”He shook Steve’s hand with as much professionalism as he could manage, despite his own mounting heartbeat.

Steve laughed, “Quite a grip you got there, kid.”

“Uh, yeah.” This was not how Peter had wanted to first officially meet Captain America. Not that he was all that crazy about meeting him these days. 

“You from New York, then?” Steve crossed his arms and looked so completely relaxed standing in the hallway outside the office room that Peter suddenly felt like one of those ‘find what doesn’t belong’ games. 

With Steve’s question, he was nearly in awe, his worry on pause for a second. “Did you pick that up from how I talk?You’re from Brooklyn, right? I did a research project on——”He cut himself off, but Steve only smiled.

“That was a lucky guess.” He gestured to Peter’s shirt. “But you are from New York?”

“Queens.” Peter confirmed weakly. He wanted the floor to swallow him up. This was the longest conversation that he had had with anyone other than Tony in days and it was going nowhere near as well as he had hoped it would. 

There was a moment of silence in which Peter considered backing into the elevator again and just leaving. He could hide in the penthouse until it was time to leave the tower.He could survive feeling lonely until Tony came out of his meeting, that pillow could probably use another hug——

“So you’re here with Tony, right?” Steve sounded casual, but Peter saw the curiosity in his eyes. Steve was looking for answers.

Peter nodded, suddenly not trusting his voice in fear of it cracking from stress. He remembered the way Tony had postponed lab days for weeks after Siberia. He remembered the still fading bruises that Tony had brushed off. He remembered the tremor in the man’s voice when Steve’s name was even brought up. 

Peter felt his throat close up, a mixture of fear and protectiveness battling it out in his mind. 

“And you’re related to him…?” The hero probed further. 

Stuck between spilling the truth and lying, Peter just nodded jerkily. 

“Ah.” Steve nodded like he was satisfied, but it was obvious he wanted more answers. 

“I’m, uh, staying with him.” Peter explained quietly, really wishing Tony would walk out the door down the hall and save him. “For now.”

“I see.” Steve offered him a friendly smile. “Well, the team is all in the living room right now. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like.”It was a kind invitation, but Peter figured talking to one more person in the state that he was in would send him into a panic. 

He shook his head, probably harder than necessary. “I, uh, maybe another time?”He was turning down Captain America. He was already tired from the conversation.And dear god, he wanted Tony. “I-I mean…not right now?I don’t mean to——”

“Hey, kid, don’t worry about it.” Steve remained friendly.He clapped Peter on the shoulder, looking a little surprised when Peter didn’t even flinch or move with the force. “Another time, yeah?Offer stands whenever.”He smiled and walked around Peter to the elevator.“It was nice meeting you, Peter Parker from Queens.”

The little dignity and excitement at meeting the celebrity that Peter had left was used all in one go when he responded, “You too, Steve Rogers from Brooklyn.”

Steve grinned at him and held his hand up in a wave as the elevator doors closed around him and he was gone. 

Peter sunk to the floor.

Too much, too much, too much.

The embarrassment and fear from the conversation sat in his stomach like something solid and the dull, deep ache in his chest from the dream still weighed down on him. He was tired again, and hungry, now that he thought about it, and lonely and miserable. 

Pulling his knees up to his chest, Peter buried his face in his arms and shut his eyes tight, not even daring to think about the possibility that someone else might see him in such a state. He just needed to breathe.That’s it.Just breathe.

His chest felt tight and pulling in full breaths was tiring. A hand subconsciously floated up to press against his chest, feeling his pounding heartbeat throughout his whole system. Usually, he would be able to hear May’s or his friends’ or even Tony’s heartbeats and breaths and match his own to theirs in a sort of way to calm down. Desperately, he strained to hear Tony’s through the door, but the walls must have somehow blocked it. 

Instead of the normal comfort, Peter pressed his back against the wall, pushing hard enough that he felt it through his whole body. 

_Focus on that.There you go.Breathe. _

With his eyes shut and his breath slowing down finally, Peter lost track of time. Back still pressed against the wall, he curled in on himself, hugging his knees to his chest in a backward form of comfort. It wasn’t until he heard a doorknob turn that his head shot up and he made eye contact with an obviously surprised Tony Stark.

“Hey, Underoos.” Tony approached slowly, closing the door behind him and looking around the hallway like he was checking for other people. When he found the place empty, he took in Peter’s fragile state like he was breakable. Peter felt that that may be a possibility.“What are you doing out here?”

Peter could only watch him and hold himself back from launching himself into Mr. Stark’s arms. God, he needed to calm down. 

“Did something happen?” When Peter didn’t respond, Tony moved a little closer until he was crouching in front of Peter. “Are you hurt?”

Peter shook his head. 

“Friday, vitals.”

“Mr. Stark——”

“Peter has no signs of physical injuries.” Friday sounded like she had been waiting to tell someone about Peter. “His heart rate is slightly elevated, but has calmed down significantly in the last half hour. I suspect that he was very close to a panic attack.”

Tony’s eyes went big and his hand immediately went to push Peter’s hair away from his eyes. “Panic attack?” He searched Peter’s eyes, both hands now flitting around Peter’s face and shoulders.“Friday why didn’t you tell me?”

“You told me not to interrupt——”

“If it has to do with Peter,” Tony said fiercely, “then you tell me. Okay?Anything to do with Peter and you tell me right away.”

Peter’s face went red at the attention. He didn’t want Tony and Friday discussing him. He didn’t want to be sitting on the floor of some hallway. He wanted to be home. 

Unfortunately, he wasn’t all that sure of where _home_ was anymore. Was it a home without May? Was he to call the tower home? The idea felt too big to pick apart for the moment, so he shoved it down with the myriad of other things he’d planned to ‘deal with later’. 

After Tony got through telling off his AI, his attention turned back to Peter. His voice was soft when he spoke again.“How you feeling, kiddie?”

Peter managed a shrug. He hadn’t thought he’d been close to a panic attack. He’d just had trouble breathing for a few minutes.While his brain went wild with everything that had gone wrong recently. Huh.

“Let’s get you back to the room, yeah?”

His voice remained gentle and Peter found himself leaning into the soft touches against his cheek. He was tired, despite the nap he had just woken up from. Tony helped Peter stand and when he swayed a little and leaned against the billionaire, Tony said nothing and only wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders. When they got in the elevator, Tony spoke again.

“Why were you in the hallway?”

Peter didn’t want to admit the reason. It sounded dumb and childish now that he actually _had_ the comfort that he had been looking for. He shrugged and Tony sighed.

“Do you know what set off the anxiety? Did something happen?”

“I had a bad dream.” Peter offered, knowing that it wasn’t the reason. “I was going for a walk.” He left out the detail about running into Captain freaking America, as he doubted Tony would be all that cool about that. 

Tony nodded, obviously not believing Peter but not pushing further. A part of him wished that he would have, just forced him to talk about everything that was wrong. Peter wasn’t sure what would come out if he did, though. “Why don’t you and I have a movie night?Huh?”he squeezed Peter’s shoulder as the elevator stopped, “Does that sound good?”

“It’s not night.” Peter pointed out.

“Movie afternoon, then. Rules don’t apply to me, remember?”

That made Peter smile at least a little. Tony’s shoulders relaxed when he did. 

Tony steered the two of them straight to the couch, sitting down right next to Peter and putting his shoes up on the coffee table. Peter chose a movie that he knew by heart——_The Fellowship of the Ring_—and he settled against the couch and (as subtly as he could) into Tony’s shoulder. They didn’t talk, didn’t move, for nearly one and a half of the movies because apparently, Friday was on autoplay. Neither of them interrupted her, they just watched, side by side, not talking.

Peter wasn’t uncomfortable, per se, but he did know that he would feel a lot more at ease if he had Tony’s arm around his shoulders again. 

“Mr. Stark?”

“Hm?” Tony looked to be nearly asleep. Peter studied him for a second, taking in the relaxed shoulders and half-shut eyes. As more time passed since Peter had spoken, Tony turned his head a little and glanced over, like he was checking to make sure Peter was okay. It made something in Peter’s chest glow. 

“I was looking for you.”

At this, Tony woke up a bit more. “Whaddya mean?”

“When you found me.” It was suddenly very important that Tony knew the reason why Peter had been camping out in the hallway. Tony had to know.“I was looking for you.I wanted to be with you.”

Tony didn’t respond for a moment. He watched Peter in silence and Peter suddenly regretted opening his mouth. It was weird, he had made it weird.He never should have opened his mouth!Once again, he had——

Tony pulled Peter tight against him, suddenly wrapping him up with both arms and Peter froze. It was way more physical contact than he’d had in a while, a genuine hug not really being a part of their daily routine. The pair tended to go with half hugs or a hand on a shoulder. 

It was nearly too late when he realized that it was exactly what he had wanted and Tony had started to pull away. Before he could, Peter wrapped his own arms around Tony’s shoulders and held on tight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Stay safe, drink water, wash your hands, leave a comment!! :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's kind of short sorry

Tony was sure that Peter could feel the warmth of his heart as they hugged on the couch. 

‘I wanted to be with you’. 

Somehow, it was the greatest group of words in the human language to Tony at that moment. His heart ached and all he wanted was just to protect protect protect the hurting kid in his arms.

Words weren’t coming and even if they were, Tony didn’t trust himself to say anything without probably saying something stupid, so he held on tight. No matter how many times he had reassured himself that Peter was okay (in a loose form of the word), it was endlessly comforting to be physically close. Tony wasn’t a huge person for physical contact. He was used to hands-on his shoulder or a handshake and of course, anything with Pepper was on the table, but he never sought it out. With Peter, Tony suddenly felt the need to  _ hold _ him, hug him, keep him close and protect him as best he could. It was confusing and  _ new _ .

“You need me and you tell Friday.” Tony instructed, trying to at least pretend that he had it together when he got his voice back. “Anything. Even if you can’t reach the cereal box on the shelf.”

“I can climb.” Peter muttered, almost petulant, and Tony couldn’t help laughing.

“Fine, you can get your own cereal.” Tony let Peter pull back, but he kept his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “But I’m serious kid. I’m here for you. Always will be.”

A look came over Peter’s face at that, but he nodded. “I was fine, Mr. Stark, really.” He shrugged and chewed on his nail. 

“Right, because being close to a panic attack definitely equals ‘fine teenager’.” Tony shook his head. “Anytime you need me, I’ll be there for you.”

“That’s  _ Friends _ , Mr. Stark.”

Tony couldn’t help smiling at the absolute familial domesticity that was his living room. For what felt like the first time in a long time, everything felt okay. Peter was smiling, genuinely smiling, and the quiet ambiance of  _ The Two Towers  _ filled in the pauses between words. When they finally started falling asleep, Tony insisted on them getting to bed.

He walked with Peter to the guest room that was quickly becoming “Peter’s room” in his head, and paused, pulling the kid close for a half hug and ruffling his hair before he walked off, the warm feeling of family washing over him.

*****

Pepper’s arrival came the day after that. While she had told Tony that she’d be home “soon”, she texted 20 minutes before she arrived at the tower. 

“Pete!” Tony was sat at the table, poring through emails, when he saw Peter walk by. 

The kid stopped on his way to the kitchen, standing by the table all quiet and polite. 

Tony wished selfishly that he’d be able to ask him how he was doing without the answer being an obvious “no”. He had no gauge of how he was, if the days were worse or better than the last, and it worried him that he would never be able to tell. He didn’t remember the kid being this closed off to him before, and he hoped against hope that it wouldn’t stay that way. 

“Listen, Pepper’s on her way over.”

Peter’s shoulders immediately tensed. “Oh.”

_ Oh _ ? What did he mean,  _ oh _ ? They had talked about this just the day before.

“Like, 15 minutes. Is that cool? She just texted me.”

Peter nodded, but still looked a little confused. He stood by the table, his hands tapping against the back of one of the chairs, staring off at something Tony knew wasn’t there. 

“Underoos?” He asked, careful. “What are you thinking?”

“Do you want me to…go?” He sounded sad. Disappointed. But not angry. 

“What?” Tony stood, confused and worried, “What? No. Of course not.” He approached Peter, placing his hand on the kid’s shoulder and feeling him immediately lean into it. “I don’t ever want you to go, I just figured you’d appreciate a heads up, that’s all.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Have you told Ms. Potts that I’m here?”

“Yes, of course.” The way she had found out would remain unsaid. 

Peter nodded again. “How does…how does she feel about it?”

Tony smiled. “She can’t wait to meet you.”

He could feel the relief as Peter’s shoulders sank. 

*****

Peter had worked up his own anxiety at the thought of meeting Pepper Potts for the first time, especially in the state that he was in. His rumpled sweats and AcaDec t-shirt seemed much, much too casual for meeting a CEO and Tony Stark’s finance, but Tony had assured him that as long as he was comfortable, it would be okay. 

After Peter had changed outfits three times and ended up back in his sweats, Tony had ushered him to the couch and had Friday play  _ The Simpsons _ , surprisingly calming Peter’s nerves. Tony wandered between the couch and the kitchen, putting on a kettle of tea, straightening up, and ruffling Peter’s hair as he went back and forth. 

When the elevator dinged, alerting them that Ms. Potts had arrived, the anxiety went right back up. Frozen on the couch as he heard Tony practically run to the elevator, Peter paused the show and sat patiently, not sure what he was supposed to do besides listen in on the obviously happy reunion. 

“Pep!” 

There was a laugh, kind and happy, “Tony!” 

Peter felt awfully out of place. 

The voices hushed, and Peter knew that they were talking about him. The unwanted, awkward kid sitting in their living room. Not wanting to be rude, he kept the TV paused, but purposefully focused on anything other than them talking. 

He waited, for what felt like forever until finally, they began heading to the living room. Looking up, he saw Tony, his eyes shining with a sort of happiness that he had rarely seen on him before. He looked like a kid with a crush and the woman who walked in after him made that look make so much sense. 

Peter had seen Ms. Potts on TV before, had seen pictures, but he’d never met her in person. She was, to use a singular word, graceful. She smiled softly, looking right at home in her professional clothes beside Tony in his jeans and faded AC/DC shirt. They looked complete together, and Peter’s stomach flipped over when he realized that maybe there really wasn’t room for him in the family. 

“You must be Peter.” Pepper smiled at him, and Peter stood up quickly, offering his hand. Pepper shook it, looking him up and down and turning to Tony. “You’re right, honey. He’d definitely the most polite teenager I’ve ever met.” 

Peter’s ears turned red, and Tony laughed. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Potts.” Peter managed out, not missing how Tony rolled his eyes fondly behind her. 

“You can call me Pepper.”

“Okay, Ms. Potts.” 

She laughed, and while Peter wished the floor would swallow him up, she didn’t comment further. “Well—“

The tea kettle screamed from the kitchen, causing Peter to jump slightly at the sound. 

“That’ll be me.” Tony started toward the kitchen. “Tea, Peter? Ms. Potts?”

Pepper laughed, “Yes, Tony.”

He nodded, turning to Peter, who nodded. “Yes, please.”

Tony smiled softly at him, “I’ll be right back.” It was a promise of the tea and also his company. He must have realized that Peter was still on edge. As he left, Pepper sat down on the chair beside the couch, yanking off her heels. “So, how are you, Peter?”

She either didn’t know about Peter’s situation, in which case he would keep it to himself, or she was just being polite and not digging into it right away. Either way, Peter shrugged, knowing full well that he was being rude. 

“I’m alright. How was…Japan?” He hoped that was where she had been and that he wasn’t just digging himself in deeper. 

Pepper sighed, letting herself fall back into the chair, an action that seemed far too casual for someone of her power. “Full of meetings, as always. I’m sure Tony was glad he didn’t have to go, he got to stay here and hang out with you all week.” She smiled, and Peter realized that she was genuinely trying to talk to him. Him, the random kid she had to come home to. Him, the orphan she knew nothing about and was now forced to talk to. 

“Um, yeah.” His hands were fidgeting, so he sat down and shoved them under his legs to hopefully hide the fact. “It’s been okay.”

It’d been hell. Not the part that pertained to Tony, but the week itself. He was tired, worn down, lonely, sad, anxious—pretty much every negative emotion he knew about, he felt. 

Thankfully, Tony immediately came back with two mugs of tea, setting them down in front of each of them. Pepper took hers with a smile, immediately taking a sip. Peter picked his mug up hesitantly, noting that it was the mug he always chose on their late-night workshop days. A faded, blue and white Stark Industries mug that fit perfectly in his hands, one that he had enjoyed tea in and suffered the occasional black coffee with. Taking a careful sip, he looked up at Tony in shock. 

Tony dropped himself down beside Peter, eyes raised in question. “What.”

“It’s exactly how I like it.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I pay attention, so what?”

Peter took another sip, unable to hide the beginnings of a smile. With Tony beside him, he felt more at ease. He sat back on the couch, allowing his shoulder to press against Tony’s as he drank his tea. He felt Pepper’s eyes on him but elected to pretend he didn’t feel them, instead focusing on Tony beside him. Tony must have picked up on something, because he started a conversation with Pepper over Peter’s head. 

From what Peter heard, it was boring stuff, the details from Pepper’s meetings, Tony retelling how the team had set up shop in his rooms while he had been gone, although he did forego telling why it was that he was out of the penthouse for a few days. Pepper didn’t ask and Peter was grateful. 

He allowed himself to zone out for a bit, content to have Tony handling the conversation as he warmed his hands up on the mug of perfectly prepared tea. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am........going crazy......stuck at home rn   
If anyone wants to chat about literally anything find me on tumblr @attemptingauthor and we can be friends during this time of crisis!!   
Thanks for continuing to read/leave those SWEET comments!! I appreciate every one of you :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> online classes SUCK YALL!!! I'm going crazy. Try learning Italian with 25 other people on zoom all with their mics on and a professor who (I adore but) does not know how to work computers!! And I don't get to talk shit with my art professor during his office hour anymore!! 
> 
> In other news, one would think I would be productive with all this time at home. That is false. I have thrown myself headfirst into learning about The Golden Age of Sail and now I'm watching Black Sails and pointing out historical inaccuracies!! Someone talk to me oh god
> 
> anyway here's a new chapter

Tony had missed Pepper. 

No, missed was an understatement. He missed his paperback copy of _The Empire Strikes Back_ that he had lost somewhere in the last 10 years. 

Pepper back meant ease, relaxation, kisses whenever he wanted them. She added a homey feel to the penthouse, something Tony hadn’t realized had been missing. More than that, she seemed to be doing pretty well with Peter. 

While the two of them didn’t talk much (as far as Tony could tell), something about Peter had eased in the past two days that Pepper had been home. Occasionally, he would walk by the kitchen to find Pepper cooking with Peter sitting at the counter, usually playing with his phone as the two sat in silence. 

Unlike Tony, Pepper knew how to be quiet. She and Peter had found a way to coexist in silence, and from what Tony saw, it was helping. Small details that he would have missed if he hadn’t been spending the last week studying the kid like some specimen. His shoulders lowered, his hands stilled, his eyes more focused and alert. Pepper brought calm. 

It took those two days for Tony to start feeling the effects of it. 

“Why are you so good with him?” 

Peter had wandered off to bed, signaling the okay that they could as well, both unwilling to leave him sitting alone in the living room. Tony sat up in bed, watching Pepper brush her teeth in the bathroom, and doing his best not to be frustrated. 

“What do you mean?” God, even with a mouth full of toothpaste, she had beauty. 

“I dunno.” Tony was self-conscious. It wasn’t something to be proud of, this emotion stuck in his throat. “He’s relaxed with you. He likes you.”

“He likes you too, honey.” Pepper rinsed and approached the bed. “I can tell. ‘Sides, I thought you wanted us to get along?”

“He’s so much…better. Calmer.” Tony watched his fiancee climb into bed beside him. He didn’t want to be upset, but he was. “I’m not good at this Pep.” That was a heavy thing to admit. “I can’t help but see that he’s happier with you. He’s calm with you. You should have seen him before you showed up, it was like panic attacks all day, every day.”

“Tony, what are you talking about?” Pepper looked almost amused, which only served to frustrate Tony that much more. “Honey, he’s a kid. He’s grieving. He’s gonna take any sort of comfort he can get and if that comfort comes in the form of him sitting in silence as I do my work, I’m not going to tell him it’s wrong.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Tony frowned. “I was so…well, ‘sure’ isn’t the word I’m thinking of, but I was thinking that I could do it, you know? Like really do it. Be there for him and all that.” He swallowed, sure that his explanation would come off horribly wrong. “And then….and then you show up and I’m just—“ he shrugged, helpless. “I’m useless, Pep.”

“What? Tony—“

“I can’t do this! I can’t—I can’t be his——“ Dad. That was too big of a word. He swallowed it down. “What if he hates me.”

“He’s not going to hate you.”

“What if I mess him up.”

“That’s not going to happen, Tony.”

His eyes were wet, and he swiped at them impatiently. “He’s so scared, baby.”

Pepper caught the next traitorous tear. “So are you. So am I. He’s not special.”

That got a laugh out of Tony, a weak, pathetic thing, but a laugh nonetheless. “No, he’s definitely special.”

“Yeah.” Pepper agreed, “He is. But hey, listen to me. That kid lights up whenever you walk into the room. He might like some quiet time, but he loves you. He needs you.” 

He loves you. 

Tony’s heart stuttered in his chest, which was partially concerning as he did have a very real heart condition. He knew Peter liked him; the kid leaned into practically any touch Tony gave. But…

“He loves you.” Pepper said again, more sure this time as she settled into bed. “Don’t argue, you know I’m right.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony verbally waved it off as best he could, laying back down with the knowledge that he was not going to sleep. 

*****

From then on, Tony kept an extra eye on Peter’s more nonverbal responses. He admitted that Pepper was right in that the moment he stepped into the room, Peter’s head whipped around to find him. He noticed that even when he thought the kid was asleep on the couch beside him, the moment he tried to get up his hand would grab onto Tony’s shirt and keep him planted there beside him. That one, Tony wasn’t even sure Peter knew he was doing. 

But although he could see that Peter was comfortable around him, or at least as comfortable as a kid in his situation could be, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a deep-seated resentment for him that was going unmentioned. 

*****

Pepper was nice, Peter decided. 

While she constantly had an air of professionalism about her, she was somehow surprisingly laid back. The two of them would situate themselves on the same couch or at the dining table, content to do nothing together. It was nice. 

Every so often, Peter would take the time to watch her, as subtly as he could manage. She was beautiful. There was a light in her eyes that was familiar, and though Peter chose not to dwell too much on it, he knew he had seen it before in May’s. She knew how to handle Tony, in a way that Tony seemed more than happy to be handled by. They made each other happy, and Peter ached for that kind of familiarity. 

He longed for that easy, loving back and forth. The way they would know what the other was thinking, how they knew how the other took their coffee. 

Peter often felt like an outsider in their relationship, and he couldn’t help feeling like the warm smiles aimed at him would run out. That being said, something in Tony had calmed when Pepper had arrived. It was like he had taken a breath for the first time since Peter had gotten there and with Pepper there, he was allowed to breathe normally. Just in being near him, Peter had calmed as well. 

Although he knew that he was definitely an empath, it took on a whole other level when it came to Tony. While he used to only be able to tell when May had a rough day when he started feeling the same, with Tony it was like they had some sort of mind connection. 

It was easy being around Pepper because _Tony _found it easy to be around her. When Peter found himself overthinking, just being near Tony as he did work on his tablet seemed to calm him. 

“Pete?” 

Peter startled from his thoughts, thankful he hadn’t zoned out while staring at Pepper. He quickly brought his attention to Tony, who looked more than a little concerned. 

“Sorry. Yes?”

Tony frowned. “You okay, kid? I called you like three times.”

Guilt sat heavy in Peter’s stomach. Oh god, he was a problem kid. “I’m fine. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Tony moved to sit down on the couch beside him and Peter realized belatedly that Pepper had left sometime while he was zoned out. “You just worried me a little.”

Which was why he was apologizing—why was everything harder to explain these days? 

Instead of arguing, Peter nodded, trying to figure out what Tony was going to bring up by his body language alone. He was awkward, his hands fidgeting on his lap, and Peter realized that he was seeing a whole new side of his mentor these days. Someone stressed out and worried and unsure and it was _Peter’s_ fault. 

The guilt grew and he ducked his head. He was causing Tony anxiety. He was putting a stress on his and Pepper’s relationship. 

“Underoos.”

“Yes.” Peter was back, his eyes still stuck on Tony’s hands which had now stilled. 

“Kid, are you getting enough sleep?”

No. 

He shrugged. He didn’t want to bring the restless nights and nightmares he couldn’t seem to remember to light. 

Tony’s hand appeared in front of his face and Peter flinched for a second, before allowing Tony to press the back of his hand to his forehead and cheeks. It was such a paternal action and Peter froze, taken aback. Tony didn’t notice, his brows drawn together as he checked for a fever. 

“Mr. Stark, I’m fine.” Peter mumbled, suddenly ashamed to be under so much scrutiny. Tony pulled away, still worried. 

“Okay.” He was hesitant. “But let me know if you’re not feeling well, okay?”

Peter nodded. The reluctance to look Tony in the eye was back, as it seemed to be whenever there was any sort of silence between them. It was hard, Peter found, to sit under that worry and pity. He didn’t deserve it, but Tony hadn’t noticed yet. 

“So I know I said we’d be here for the weekend.” Tony started, and Peter realized belatedly that they had been there for nearly five days. Oh. “And we’ve kind of gone over that. I was wondering if…well, honestly, I need to know what your plan is for the apartment.”

The apartment. 

His home.

Peter swallowed. 

“I think you know that you can’t really live there on your own right now.” Tony continued, and Peter guessed where the conversation was heading. “Legally, you’re not allowed to, not without a guardian or a steady job.” 

Peter nodded. 

“I know it’s your…home.” Tony was careful. “And it’ll be hard to move on, but what do you think about moving in here?” He pulled in a deep breath. “Permanently.”

Despite Tony repeatedly telling him that he was there for the long haul, the thought of permanency in the Stark family and home hadn’t occurred to him. Maybe he had thought he could live in the apartment and have Tony stop by every so often. Or maybe even be turned out into a home or stuck somewhere in the system. 

He did want to live with Tony, though the offer still sounded too good to be true.

Tony seemed to take the hesitation as a negative answer; he rubbed his hands together and let out a long breath. He sounded disappointed. “Or, I could continue renting out the apartment. Of course, the money is no object. I could keep the whole place the way it is and I don’t know, we could stay there. Together. Pep would have to be in and out, but we could make it work, at least for a while.”

It was a lot, truly, that someone was willing to preserve his home that much. Honestly, the thought only strengthened the guilt and made Peter a little sick. He couldn’t pull Mr. Stark away from his life like that. Better he never see the apartment again than feed the fire of resentment in Tony that he was sure was there. 

“No.”

“No, you don’t want to stay here?”

“No, I don’t want to live there anymore.” He knew that he was giving up a home. He was giving up memories and maybe, even May. 

For a brief moment, Peter saw a flash of himself in a few years, living in the untouched apartment and feeling like a stranger in it. It would just be an empty space, somewhere that used to be a home. He couldn’t do that to it, to May and Ben and all the memories they had had. If he held on…it would be empty space. 

“I could keep the rent going too.” Tony offered. “Keep the place until you’re old enough to move out and if you still want it, you can live there.”

Somehow, that was worse. 

“It’s just a time capsule if you do that. It won’t be home. It’ll be a…a goddamn museum piece.” He shook his head. “Whatever. Just get rid of it.” 

Tony watched him, a question in his eyes.

He shook his head again. “Yeah. Get rid of it.”

Tony was hesitant. He watched him with a look that had Peter’s shoulders pulling up to his ears. He didn’t like it when adults seemed to just see right through him. “You sure, kid? I can hold on to it easy. No problem at all.”

“I don’t want it.” Peter was sure. He swallowed down the sick feeling in his throat. He should have expected to be making choices like this. “Okay? Just—just get _rid _of it. I don’t want it.”

“Alright, kid.” Tony’s voice brought him back. “Whatever you want. We’ll head over there tomorrow and pick up whatever you want, sound good?”

Peter nodded mutely, his gaze stuck firmly on the carpet in front of him. He watched Tony’s shoes as he stood and left, still stuck under the weight of his decision. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! This might be the last for a bit, because I haven't written for a bit. Kinda hard to motivate rn. 
> 
> If anyone wants to chat, hmu on Tumblr! (@attemptingauthor) seriously just dm and we can chat I'm so boreddddd. I hope you're all well and safe and not going out when you don't need to!!! Stay inside folks!! Learn some maritime knots and make a sea shanty playlist


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY FOLKS guess who's back for a real short chapter!! I just missed you guys too much.

It rained the day they went back to the apartment. 

Of course, it did. 

Peter leaned his head against the cold window of Tony’s car, tuning out the sound of Tony and Happy’s conversation. Tony had elected to sit in the back next to Peter, something Peter was both guilty and grateful for. He wasn’t much company, especially compared to the years of friendship Tony and Happy had, but the idea of being alone in the backseat was alienating. 

Still, he couldn’t quite bring himself to join in on the conversation. 

He watched the city rush by his window, allowing his eyes to unfocus until everything became a smeared out, dreary blur. It seemed fitting. 

Despite missing the comforts of home, Peter dreaded going back to the apartment. It was dead there. Empty. It was nothing more than a few rooms, now, lonely and cold and without May. 

Peter shifted in his seat a little and the conversation paused for a moment. 

“Pete?” 

Peter hummed in response, not looking away from his rain covered window. 

“I thought you were asleep.” Tony continued, as if nothing was wrong. As if they weren’t going to be in Peter’s home for the last time in a few minutes. As if it wasn’t Peter’s fault that his entire life was getting screwed up. 

Peter crossed his arms tight over his chest, willing his pounding heart to stay where it was. 

Tony didn’t make another attempt to talk to him, but a warm hand was placed on Peter’s shoulder as Tony started talking to Happy again. 

*****

When the car pulled to a stop, Peter was hyper-aware of it.

He knew the streets of Queens like the back of his hand and it was no surprise to him where he was. Despite living there his whole life, though, it felt disconnected. He felt like a stranger. 

Tony exited and Peter was left in the car with Happy for the few moments before Tony crossed to his side. 

“It’ll be okay, kid.” Happy sighed, but he didn’t sound sure.

Peter nodded to be polite. Tony appeared in his window and he allowed the billionaire to lead him out and towards the beaten-down apartment building. He fished his key out of his pocket, finding both dread and relief in the familiar action. 

The sounds of his shoes on the stairs, because of course, the elevator was out of order. The arguing of that one couple down the hall that never really seemed to stop. And—

“Little Parker.” 

Mike. 

Peter felt Tony tense up behind him at the sight of the neighbor, but all Peter felt was dread. His plan of being in and out before anyone saw him dissipated. 

“Hey, Mike.”

The man frowned, leaning in his doorway. “I thought I heard you.” He looked concerned, and Peter didn’t miss the way he looked Tony over with a squinting, untrusting gaze. “I haven’t seen you and your aunt around. Is everything okay with you guys?”

Peter froze, his words caught in his throat. He knew Mike. He had grown up with him always across the hall, offering to help May with groceries, trading bread recipes with Ben, friendly greetings for as long as Peter could remember. But now, there was something that felt so wrong about the conversation. He was a stranger in that moment. 

“Family emergency.” Tony cut in, a hand resting on Peter’s shoulder that was an obvious claim. Peter didn’t really mind it. “We’d like some space on the matter.”

Mike nodded, his hands up in a “sorry I asked” gesture. “Of course.” He looked at Tony with a hard stare and Peter knew that Tony was matching it, over his head. “You stay safe, okay, Little Parker? It’s a big scary world out there.”

Peter nodded jerkily. 

“Okay.” Mike backed into his apartment. “See you around, kid.”

The door shut and Tony grabbed the keys from Peter’s hand, jamming them into their own door and practically shoving Peter inside. He locked the door after them. 

“I don’t like that guy.” Tony made his feelings known. 

Peter shrugged.

“Bad vibes.” Tony continued. “Cruella de Vil kinda vibes.”

Peter didn’t answer. He hadn’t been in the apartment since Tony had practically dragged them to the tower, and at that moment, he wasn’t sure if he would see the place again. Now, standing in the living room like he had never left, Peter was hit with the fact that this _was_ the last time he would see it. 

He had grown up in these rooms. Before them, he only had vague memories of his life with his parents in their house. His only solid memories that weren’t told to him through stories or felt like they were hidden behind a fogged glass, were the ones he had made in this house. 

It felt like a betrayal to be there after May and Ben had gone. 

Tony stood beside him, obviously understanding Peter’s need for silence as he took in the room. A part of Peter wanted to reach out and grab onto Tony’s arm, knot his fingers in that expensive jacket and hold him tight enough that he wouldn’t even think of leaving Peter, but he knew that it was selfish, if not only a passing thought that he would never act on. 

With a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders, almost hearing May’s chiding to “stand up straight, kid, you look like Quasimodo” as he did so. 

“Alright.” Peter started, both appreciative and peeved that Tony was taking a backseat and letting him lead. “I guess I’ll grab what I want to take to the tower…” He trailed off. There was only so much he could carry and he didn’t even know what he wanted to keep. The thought of keeping any of the furniture hadn’t even occurred to him; would he want to keep the furniture? 

Tony—thankfully—must have noticed how lost he looked and jumped in. “Grab what you want to take to the tower, anything else you want to keep you can let me know and I’ll take care of it. Good?”

Peter nodded mutely, swallowing hard. 

Okay. 

He could do this. 

He started with the easy part, grabbing every single picture messily hung up in the living room and kitchen. He found himself grabbing things he didn’t think he would ever actually _want _to keep. A wooden spoon that had somehow always been in the kitchen, the matching coffee mugs from May and Ben’s wedding, one of which was far less weathered than the other. He grabbed the novelty plate from Bergamo, Italy that May’s friend had brought back from a visit with a promise to take her someday. The little set of matryoshka dolls that sat in a little line next to the tv that Ben had found at a yard sale over 10 years before. 

Everything went into an orderly pile on the coffee table, and Tony didn’t make a single word of comment from his seat on the couch, simply allowing Peter to grab what he wanted. 

From there, Peter moved on to his room, figuring he could knock that task off fairly easily. Unfortunately, the second he stepped foot in the room, he was rushed with memories, not just from his whole childhood growing up there, but from the few nights that he had stayed there directly after May had died, petrified at what the future held and too scared to leave the room and just as Tony. 

The room was cold, and the tiny window didn’t let in nearly enough light as usual, and Peter felt like a stranger. Brushing the feeling off as best he could, he grabbed Ben’s old suitcase from the closet, now deemed his own, and began shoving clothes in left and right. Every picture in his room was placed carefully on top, as well as anything of sentimental value. Soon, he ran out of room and began toting everything out to the living room to add to the pile. 

Books that Ben bought him for his birthdays and Christmases, each with a little paragraph inside the cover. 

A CD mixtape that Ned had made for them a few years back, featuring mostly early 2000s hits. 

Somehow, the posters on his walls felt like they belonged to someone else, as did the perfectly constructed Lego creations and periodic table puzzle. It’s not like they weren’t something that he loved anymore, but the moment Peter thought about the simple joys of them, he was flooded with guilt. He wasn’t sure why, but if it didn’t have enough sentimental value that he would be guilt-ridden leaving it behind, it was left untouched. 

When he had packed up his whole room and was in the process of doing a last sweep, he found his suit. It was cold, like a jacket you haven’t worn in a while, and the material felt smooth and foreign in his hands. After barely a moment of hesitation, Peter shoved it deep into the closet and closed the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> U G H how are you guys doing during this whole mess? Quarantine treating you well?? I hope so!! 
> 
> Sorry for disappearing for like, weeks. My motivation to do anything other than binge watch community and drink tea is gone and it suckssssss. But seeing as it's almost 2 am rn and I'm not actually that tired, I decided to crank out a chapter real quick and post it bc why not. 
> 
> I'm gonna be real hopeful and say I'll be back next week?? Maybe?? Don't hold me to that 
> 
> Also I realize it's not my normal day for updating but time isn't real anymore :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY FOLKS I MISSED YA I HOPE YOU'RE WELL!!! 
> 
> is anyone still there ....
> 
> please excuse any errors or typos or anything, it's 3:02 am rn

When Peter emerged from his room, his arms full of what seemed to be his comforter, he looked fragile. 

Tony did a double-take, dropping his phone mid email on the couch to meet the kid halfway, almost moving to take the comforter from Peter’s arms, but thinking better of it at the last minute when he saw how Peter’s hands were knotted in the fabric. 

“You okay there, bud?” Tony was careful. 

Peter didn’t meet his eyes, just hugged the blanket a little tighter against his chest. He swallowed and shrugged. 

Tony’s hands itched to comfort, to cradle the poor kid’s face, to run a hand through his messy hair, to somehow lift the burden that had weighed his shoulders down into this sad, pathetic hunch. Something, be it his own parental issues or something else, stopped him though, and his hands balled up at his sides in frustration for a moment before leading Peter to the couch. It wasn’t like he didn’t _want _to offer some sort of physical comfort, he just couldn’t quite force himself to do so. 

Peter dropped down onto the couch, still holding the comforter tight. 

“Are we bringing the blanket?”

Peter nodded. 

“Okay. Did we finish going through your room, or are we still working on it?” He knew he was using annoying “we” language, something Rhodey insisted helped to not alienate someone as they worked through a problem. It bothered Tony when people used it on him, but Peter didn’t seem to mind. 

The kid nodded, tucking his chin into the blanket. 

“Are we…” Tony sat down on the coffee table, careful not to disturb the pile of (admittedly odd) things that Peter had chosen to take with him. “Are we feeling up to going through May’s room?”

Something in Peter’s breath caught, and he looked panicked. He obviously wasn’t up to it, but Tony knew the kid. If he didn’t step in, Peter would force himself to go through May’s things while obviously not feeling it, just to avoid (somehow) disappointing Tony. He’d do anything to not disappoint Tony, something the billionaire had realized a few months earlier, and it was still absolutely terrifying. This kid looked up to him, enough so that he’d shoulder through this possibly emotionally traumatic experience to appease him.

“Or, how about,” Tony cut in, deciding right then and there that he was putting a foot down. Damn the original plan, he was not going to force Peter into this. “We head back to the tower and I wrap you up in so many blankets you can’t move.”

Peter looked up halfway, his eyes on Tony’s shoulder, but Tony figured it was progress at least. “But—“ 

“I’ll make you hot chocolate and we’ll watch movies until Pepper makes us go to bed.” 

The hesitation was obvious in Peter’s eyes. “I need to finish…” He trailed off weakly, like he was waiting for Tony to interrupt him to convince him to leave.

“We can come back tomorrow.” Tony offered, intentionally lowering his voice. “Or the next day. Or next week. Next month. I don’t care how long it takes, but I definitely don’t want to force you to do something you’re clearly not ready for.” 

Peter didn’t say anything, but his eyes shut and he nodded, his face buried in his blanket. 

“Awesome.” Tony said softly, feeling the win. “Awesome. I’ll text Happy.” 

******

Peter’s room didn’t feel any more like home after he added the stuff from his old room. 

There was a beat-up armchair in the corner now, something that May used to stay up late reading her romance novels in, as well as piles and piles of pictures that Peter had yet to put up sitting on the floor. 

The room felt like a conglomerate of two lives that weren’t quite his; a past that he could never quite return to and a future he was sure he would never fit into. It was a bleak thought, but as most of his thoughts were bleak these days, he didn’t read too much into it. 

He lay on his bed, sprawled upside-down, and staring at his ceiling. 

He had forgotten the glow in the dark stars. He had only realized it after they had gotten back to the tower and it was with a sinking certainty that he’d never see them again that he was lying, unmoving, on a bed that still seemed too fancy to be his. 

The stars had been something small, something that should have been disposable. He and May had put them up years ago, after she had bought a bunch at the dollar store and had decided that his room needed more decoration. It was a joint effort, reaching up on their toes on chairs to stick the cheap stars on the ceiling, and they had just never come down. They were faded now, barely giving off any sort of glow, but the lack of them made the room feel cold and empty now that it wasn’t just a room he stayed at. 

This was his room. 

The fact that his room didn’t feature the glow in the dark stars made him feel sick. 

He rolled over to his stomach and shut his eyes. 

*****

“He was gonna leave it, Pep.” Tony held Peter’s Spidey suit in his hands, cradling it like it was something precious. “Like, he knew he wasn’t going to go back there, at least not anytime soon, and he _left _it.” 

He had made sure both his and Peter’s doors were shut and that he was talking quietly, even though he wasn’t really sure how good Peter’s hearing actually was. He hoped he was quiet enough; if there was one thing he didn’t want to do, it was add on to Peter’s seemingly endless list of things to stress about.

“Hun, maybe he just forgot it.” Pepper, ever the realist, took her readers off and placed her book down on the bed beside her. She was patient, so, so patient. Tony threw himself down on the bed beside her, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to it. 

“I don’t think so.” He muttered. “Do you think he’s…done? With...” He held up the offending suit. “Gotta say, it’d work wonders for my heart if he wasn’t swinging around and putting himself in danger every night.” 

When they had gotten home, Peter had made a beeline for his room, shutting the door behind him and Tony didn’t have the heart to keep bothering him after the day that they’d had. Instead, he bothered his wife while internally worrying about the kid anyway. 

“He might need a break.” Pepper reasoned, “He’s going through a lot and he’s not sure how to handle it. Maybe adding in an alter-ego isn’t something he’s feeling up to right now.” She dropped a hand to his hair and began combing through it the way Tony did to Peter’s. Tony closed his eyes. _So that’s where he got that move. It’s effective._ “He’s still re-figuring out who Peter Parker is. Give him time to figure out who Spiderman is.” 

Tony knew she was right. Pepper was always right. “Yeah. Okay.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments, both enjoying the brief reprieve of the chaos that was their lives. 

“Oh, hey.” Pepper broke the silence, rousing Tony from a half-asleep state. “I talked to Steve today.”

Tony scowled, but Pepper forged ahead. 

“They’re worried about you, honey. I know it’s not pleasant and if it were up to me, they would all be kicked to the curb by now—“ Tony snorted— “But it’s not and you need to talk to them.” 

“I don’t wanna.” Tony grumbled. “What do they even want? Is it not enough that I house and feed them?” 

“Apparently not.” Pepper said, wryly. “Guess they want to be friends, too.” 

“That’s too much to ask.” Tony buried his face against the blankets, allowing himself to just be and enjoy his wife sitting beside him. “The timing is so bad, babe. What if they need me in a meeting and I have to miss, I dunno, a science fair. I’m not gonna miss a science fair for a lame-ass meeting. Hell no. I’m gonna be there to see every single one of that kid’s extra school things.” 

Pepper laughed softly beside him. “I’ll make sure you don’t. But you do still need to try and make an effort in bridging the gap.”

“Why don’t they make an effort?”

“They have.” Pepper moved her closed book to the bedside table and settled more comfortably against Tony. “Rhodey’s handling them as well as he can, but they’re pretty much 100% kept in the dark these days. I’m going to set up a meeting, okay? Just to talk. I’ll have Rhodey there and I won’t leave your side, not once.”

Although the thought of talking to Steve still sent a shiver of dread through Tony’s chest, the reassurance that his people would be there too quelled the fear slightly. 

“I don’t want to talk to him.” Tony said, in a voice that could be described as both petulant and scared. “I don’t…Pep.” 

“I know.” There was pain in her voice. She had been the one that was stuck at home while Tony fought, the one who had to hear that he was dead and live with the fact for the few days until his return. She had sat by his bed and watched him heal, knowing just how close she had been to losing him. She knew. 

Shaken at the emotional (yet brief) outpouring, Tony shook the thought from his head. “I want it in a communal place, like the dining room. And Peter will stay far away from the whole thing, I don’t want any of them talking to him.” 

“Of course.” Pepper agreed fiercely. “No one gets near him.” 

Tony nodded,“I don’t want them knowing anything about him. I don’t want them knowing anything.”

“Well, already no one knows what you’re thinking, or what your plan is.”

“My plan is to never leave this floor.” Tony grumbled. “You and Pete are the only people I’m ever gonna talk to again. And Rhodey. Maybe Bruce. And—”

“Boss?” Friday interrupted, jarring Tony from his musings. “Peter is exhibiting some odd behavior.” 

Immediately, Tony was on his feet, Pepper right behind him. “Talk to me, what’s happening.”

“He does not appear to be in any danger.” Friday assured. 

Still, Tony and Pepper made their way to Peter’s room, Tony’s heart pounding with the fear that maybe Peter actually _was_ in danger and that Friday was trying to soften the blow. Maybe he’d fallen from the ceiling wrong. Maybe he’d cut himself against some sharp knick-knack—the fear that had occupied his mind so fully that night when Peter had brought up the subject of self-harm suddenly hit him like a tidal wave and he nearly knocked the kid’s door down.

Peter whirled around when the door slammed open, nearly falling from his position on the ceiling in surprise. Behind Tony, Pepper yelled at the sight and Tony almost felt his heart stutter in his chest. 

“Kid—“

“Tony—“ 

“What are you _doing?”_

At Peppers question, Tony actually realized that Peter wasn’t just hanging out (no pun intended) on the ceiling, but that he held a mug and a tape dispenser in one hand and was taping bits of paper to the ceiling. 

“I…what _are_ you doing?” Tony asked, confused as all hell and wondering if this is what normal parents felt like. 

Peter looked truly embarrassed, dropping down onto his bed with his face flushed bright red. “I…I don’t…” He looked almost scared, his eyes wide like he had been caught red-handed doing something illegal. “The stars…” 

To Tony’s horror, Peter’s brows began to scrunch together like he was about to cry, but Tony had spent enough time with him during the past few weeks to know that though there would be no tears, there was a good chance it would lead to a panic attack if he wasn’t careful. 

“Woah, woah, hold on, bud, hold on.” Tony rushed to the bed, arms already reaching out to grab Peter’s elbows to help him down. “It’s okay, we’re not mad.”

“I had these stars—“ Peter continued to try and explain his reasoning, allowing Tony to guide him to sit at his desk. “May thought—“

“Calm down, bud, don’t try to talk just yet, just breathe.” Tony could feel Pepper hovering at his side, trying to understand the explanation. Tony reached out to take the mug and tape from Peter’s hands, but despite letting them go, the objects stuck to his hands either way. 

“Sorry.” Peter mumbled, though his slightly erratic breathing. “Sticky.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tony offered what he hoped was a convincing smile. “No worries, kid. You just keep holding onto these for me, yeah?” 

Peter nodded, though he still looked guilty. 

“You wanna tell me why you were on the ceiling just now?” Tony asked, and Pepper knelt beside him, looking far calmer than Tony felt. “What’s with the mug full off…” he peeked into it. “Paper?”

Peter’s eyes bounced back and forth between Pepper and Tony, as if debating whether or not to tell them. Tony was just beginning to think that maybe Peter had done something actually bad and that he should be prepared to hear it. 

What if he’d done something illegal? Somehow? How would Tony deal with it? 

“I had these glow in the dark stars in my room.”Peter started, and Tony held his breath. “They’re like, pretty dim at this point, but I was so used to them being there when I looked up that…” He trailed off and glanced at the ceiling. 

Tony followed his gaze, seeing the little bits of paper taped to the ceiling. 

Oh. 

“Peter, we can get your glow in the dark stars.” Pepper thankfully jumped in, letting Tony realize that Peter had been _scared_ to tell them about this. About taping some paper to his ceiling. He had thought he’d get in trouble. 

“Oh, no—“ 

“Very easily, Peter. What do they cost? $15? $20?”

Peter choked. “Like, a dollar.” 

“A _dollar?_” Tony cut back in. “Peter, this room alone cost—“

He cut himself off at the look of horror already growing on the kid’s face. 

“—a pretty penny.” He finished lamely.“My point is, you can ask us for stuff. Especially stuff like this.” He hoped he was coming across as comforting, but the unsure look on Peter’s face made him unsure. “I’ll buy you a car if you want me to.” 

Peter’s jaw dropped, his head already starting to shake bake and forth. “Please don’t.”

“I’ll buy you an island.” Tony continued, “Or a castle. Do you want a castle, Pete?”

Though he still shook his head, the beginnings of a smile had started to form. 

“No castle? Fine. I’ll name a planet after you.”

At that, Peter actually looked interested. “Can you do that? Like, legally?”

Tony looked to Pepper. She shrugged, though she looked curious too. 

“I dunno.” Tony continued, “But I’ll find out and name one after you.”

That got a sort of half-laugh from Peter, and suddenly the tape and mug were toppling to the floor. 

“I’m not sticky anymore.” Peter explained to a confused Pepper. “It happens when I calm down.” 

A warm feeling settled in Tony’s chest at the realization that he had been the one to calm him down. To be fair, he had been the one to incite the brief moment of panic, but that was neither here nor there. 

He settled back, sitting more comfortably on the carpet as he watched Peter hesitantly and shyly explain some of his other powers to Pepper, who, much to her credit, acted as if Tony hadn’t told her about every single one of them in great detail. 

He’d get glow in the dark stars for Peter. He’d meet with Steve. He’d keep his family close and he’d get through. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!! Leave me a comment so I don't get lonely!!! they make my day!!!
> 
> I hope you're all well and holding up okay. What are y'all doing to keep busy at home?? I've resorted to painting doors around my house, I need something else to do.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall are giving me LIFE with these comments my G O D making my damn DAY thank you !!!
> 
> this ones kinda short but I know the next part will be longer :D

Tony Stark had spent his entire life shoving down any and all emotions that he might happen upon. 

It wasn’t really his fault; there’s only so much one can do to undo the damage done by one’s father. Pepper assured him time and again that it was okay to still be affected by the teachings of his father, but some days it did little other than feel like a bandaid on a gunshot wound. 

The day of his meeting with the rogues, Tony felt decidedly shot and even a bandaid would have been appreciated. 

He stood in front of his mirror, straightening his tie. He didn’t need to. He knew it was straight. He also knew that the rest of the team would probably not be dressing up for a meeting in their dining room, but he knew that there was power in appearance. He wasn’t going to show up still dressed in the sweatpants and t-shirt that he had lived in for the past few days. The rogues didn’t deserve to know that he’d been dressing down lately. The rogues didn’t deserve to know anything about him, lately. 

“Tony?” Pepper called from down the hall. “You’ve put this off as long as you can, we should probably head down.”

“Right.” Tony called back. “Give me a sec.”

There was a small sigh from Pepper, but he knew that he wasn’t going to get pushback from her, at least not right now. She knew how much he was dreading the meeting and in all honesty, she was against it as much as he was. 

Confident enough in his appearance, Tony made his way to Peter’s room to check in one last time before leaving. When his knocking was met with a quiet “come in”, he opened the door. 

“Pete?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m headed out.” 

Peter was laid out on the bed, eyes on the ceiling. They had ordered the little glow in the dark stars and Pepper and Peter had spent a whole afternoon working on putting them up together. Tony had watched from the doorway as Pepper would hand them up to Peter to stick to the ceiling, quietly content to watch them. 

“You know they don’t glow when the suns out.” Tony couldn’t help teasing, and he was met with a half-hearted eye roll. 

“I know.” Peter looked uncomfortable as he rolled over to look at Tony. “So, you’re leaving?”

“Yeah.” Tony rubbed his chest where the reactor used to be, an anxious habit of his that he’d had since Afghanistan. Peter’s eyes jumped to the movement and Tony stopped himself. He didn’t need the kid to see how nervous he was. “You sure you’re gonna be okay up here? It’s only for a few hours, but still. You tend to get in trouble.”

Peter nodded, waving off the question and attempt at a joke. “I’ll be fine. Are…” he chewed his lip. “Are all the rogues gonna be there today?”

“Most of them, yeah, I think so.” Tony ignored how his heart seemed to jump at the reminder. “Why, you want an autograph?”

The joke fell flat when Peter didn’t even blink at it. 

“Captain Rogers is gonna be there?”

“I…yeah.” Tony nodded. “Yeah, he should be there.”

“I want to come.”

“What?” Tony frowned. “No. Hell no. You’re gonna stay up here and far away from those bast—sorry. No wait, actually forget it, they are bastards.” 

“Okay, but what if they’re lying?” Peter got up from the bed, intent obvious in his eyes. “Like, what if they’re planning a sneak attack?”

“In my tower? In my dining room?” Tony brushed off the worry, though he had to admit that he had thought of that earlier. It would be all too easy to pretend that they were there under a truce. “It’ll be okay, they’re not gonna get anywhere near you up here.” 

“I don’t care.” Peter said fiercely. “I want to come.”

“You’re not coming.” Tony bit back, much harsher than he meant to, but suddenly filled with the fear that Peter would follow him anyway and get himself hurt. “Okay? That’s the end of it.” He did his best to not look the kid in his sad puppy eyes as he turned to leave. God, he really was not good at telling Peter no. “I’ll be back in a few hours—“

“But what if they hurt you again.” 

It was a quiet question that was more of a statement than anything else. It was vulnerable. It was scared. 

Tony stopped at the door, his breath catching in his lungs for a second. 

“After Sokovia—“

Tony flinched and turned around. 

“Pepper kept saying that you were still healing for so long.” Peter looked guilty, his voice quiet. Tony forgot all about the meeting, his eyes stuck on the sad, worried look in his kid’s eyes. “She….she wouldn’t tell me anything about you or how you were doing or what happened. Happy was the same way. I even tried to call Mr. Rhodey and…I hated it, Mr. Stark, I hated it.” There was a passion in his eyes that Tony recognized as something he sometimes saw in himself. It almost scared him. 

“What are you talking about, kiddo?” He asked softly, though he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to hear the end of the story. “What did you do?”

“I hacked into Friday’s cameras.” 

The admission came so plainly that Tony almost missed the fact that this _kid_ hacked into his multimillion, 100% secure camera system and he hadn’t even heard about it. But what hit Tony square in the face was the realization that Peter had _seen_ him. 

While he was beat to all hell, teetering on the brink of death, his kid had _seen_ him. 

“Peter—“

“I thought you were gonna die, Mr. Stark.” Peter said, and something inside Tony’s chest broke. “I watched for days and you never moved. I got behind on school work, I stopped going to Ned’s house. I couldn’t stop watching because what if I looked away and you were gone?.” 

_What if Tony had died? What if Peter had watched him die?_

_ “_Pepper would cry next to your bed.” Peter continued, looking as if he were unable to stop talking. “You looked….I thought I was going to lose another….” He trailed off, eyes trained on the floor and his hands knotted up and tucked under his chin. He looked like he was trying to physically protect his heart. 

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence. 

The admission lay curled up at their feet, breathing like a living thing and Tony hated it. 

Then Peter was in his arms and Tony wasn’t sure who had made the move to make it so, but he didn’t care. Peter shook against him, his hands wrinkling the fancy suit that Tony had put on just for the meeting, but he didn’t care. He didn’t _care_. 

Tony’s arms wrapped tight against the kid like he was going to slip away if he let go. 

“Please don’t go.” Peter mumbled against Tony’s shoulder. “Please don’t go see them again.”

“I have to.” Tony whispered back, hating the way Peter gripped him a little tighter at the words. “I need to start fixing things that broke.”

“Why do _you_ have to, though?”

“It’s my job, kiddo. Superhero-ing is messy work, you know that.”

“You should quit.”

Tony chuckled softly. “We’ll see, kid, we’ll see.”

*****

Peter was an idiot. 

It was only after Tony had left that he realized that, god_damn_, he should not have admitted to hacking the billionaire's security system to spy on him. 

It wasn’t like he was trying to show off; He hadn’t even told Ned about it. Telling Ned would lead to him having to admit that he was so damn scared of losing this man who was barely a mentor to him. It would mean admitting to himself that, in all honesty, he had gotten far too attached to someone who definitely didn’t harbor the same feelings for him. 

Throwing himself back down on his bed, Peter covered his face with his new and extremely fluffy pillow, letting out a quiet yell. He didn’t need to bring any more attention to himself and the last thing he wanted to do was worry Pepper. 

As he did his very best not to think about Tony’s meeting with the rogues, his brain decided to betray him at that moment, and suddenly it was all he could think about. 

He hadn’t been lying when he said that he was worried that they’d hurt him. It had been a constant worry in his mind since seeing him in that hospital bed for the first time. There was an anger that had been instilled in him, an anger that was scary and overwhelming and _deserved_, when he realized that it had been Captain fucking America who had hurt Tony. 

And now, he and Tony were a few floors down, face to face, hashing out their problems. 

Peter stood up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooooo next chapter gonna go harddddddd


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back folks !!!! shit's going down !!!!

Despite having prepared for days what he was going to say to the rogues when he met them, Tony still felt his mouth go dry when he walked into the room and saw them all, in person, looking right back at him. 

This was his family; They had stuck together through thick and thin for years, had each other’s backs, called each other home. Each and every one of them had crashed at Tony’s place once or twice, had stayed up late dealing with failed missions together, had shared meals and tears and trauma. There had been a time when all of them, including Tony, would have laid down their lives for each other. 

And now. 

Tony stared back at the crowd of strangers. 

“Stark.”

He tensed. Damnit. “Rogers.”

Steve was dressed down, as were the rest of the team. Though Tony had intentionally dressed nicer than they would (he had managed to straighten out whatever wrinkles Peter had caused earlier), Tony still felt unintentionally overdressed. 

Honestly, Tony should be able to handle the situation. Wanda had fucked off somewhere with Vision and hadn’t been seen since the fight, which was really a win in Tony’s book. The Ant-Man guy was also missing, though Tony wasn’t really sure where he had come from in the first place. Most of all, Barnes wasn’t included in the group. In all honesty, Tony wasn’t even sure if he was in the tower at all; he hadn’t seen him since the fight either. He wasn’t sure whether knowing for sure if he was in the vicinity or not was a good thing. 

This all left Sam, Clint, Nat, Steve, and Rhodey. 

Still quite unable to look Steve in the eyes, Tony didn’t bother to. Instead, he focused his attention on Steve’s shoulder. Steve seemed intent on making the meeting as difficult as he could, obviously fighting to catch Tony’s eye. 

“Well then,” Tony cleared his throat and put himself in charge. “Let’s get started then.”

Sitting around the table with what remained of his old team, Tony could have almost convinced himself that nothing had changed, other than the genuine fear that ran through his veins whenever one of them moved suddenly in the corner of his eye. 

Tony shoved forward. “So, why the hell are you guys still here. I thought you’d leave as soon as I did.”

“When you went to pick up the kid.” Sam cut in, and Tony barely dignified the comment with a glance. 

“I know you have rooms here,” Tony pulled in a breath. “But why are you using them? Why not fuck off to your own places? Your farms?” He looked at Clint, who looked away. “Why are you staying here?”

There was a brief moment of silence among the team. 

Rhodey broke it: “Tony—“

“Fury said—“ Clint started, and at that, Tony’s gaze snapped to him. 

“_What?_” 

Again, he was met with silence. No one seemed to want to speak up, at least not now that Tony had burst. 

“What the hell does Fury have to do with this?” He started again, this time, pinning his attention on Steve. “Explain.” 

Though confused, Steve answered. “We’re on, well, for lack of a better word I’ll use ‘house arrest’.” 

“At least until our reputations can be fixed a little.” Sam cut in. 

“Fury’s having us stay here until then—I thought all of this went through you.” Steve, to his credit, looked genuinely confused and a little regretful. “He said he got the okay from the tower, I just assumed—“

“Tony.” Rhodey broke in again, and at the look on his face, Tony’s stomach flipped over. 

“Goddamnit.” He muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. “Goddamnit, man. This was _you?_”

“Listen—“ 

“You _okayed _this? After…” He gestured to Rhodey’s legs, not surprised or bothered by the audible little gasps from the team. “You know what shit they did.” He didn’t care that they could all hear him, he didn’t care. It was justified. 

“I know.” Rhodey, his _best friend, _put his hands up in defense. “But I knew you couldn’t deal with Fury and the team, and it was either this or…” He glanced at the rest of them, all watching him intently. “Ross was going to step in.”

At that, Tony understood. He didn’t for one moment feel better about the decision that Rhodey had made without him, but the thought of them being back on the Raft was something that made his heart grow cold. No, no matter what had happened, he wasn’t letting anyone get stuck there, ever again. 

“Fuck,” he said instead. “Fuck. Alright. Fine. Whatever. House arrest.”

He was met with a couple of weak nods around the table. At least that cleared up any chance that they were there to intentionally intrude on Tony’s life. 

“I apologize for not realizing.” Steve started. “I should have known you wouldn’t have accepted this course of action.”

“Whatever,” Tony waved it off but looked to Rhodey. “We’re gonna have a talk, man.”

“That’s fair.” Rhodey looked regretful, at least. “I get it.” 

Tony let out an almighty sigh, something that definitely and clearly let the team know that they were aging him years by just being in the same room as them. “So you’re here because of Fury. And Ross, I guess, so that’s great. How long are you going to be darkening my door?”

“We’re not sure yet,” Nat spoke up for the first time and Tony felt his throat tighten at her voice. They had been friends. They were close. What she had done was not going to be forgotten anytime soon. “Fury told us to keep our heads down and stay out of trouble until he can figure out a way to make sure we’re not vilified as soon as we step out onto the street again.”

“Shouldn’t we be teaching that there _are_ consequences for our actions?” Tony bit out, leveling an even stare at Nat. She returned it, but looked away first. “I should kick you to the street, you know. All of you.”

There was no protest. 

“What you did was…” He struggled to come up with a word for what they did. It felt worse than betrayal. “…and you have the fucking audacity to come crawling back to me? After all the shit you did to me and my family.”

It wasn’t lost on anyone that the team was no longer considered ‘family’ to Tony. 

Something big and angry and scared was expanding in Tony’s chest, something that only grew larger when he was met with silence. 

“Well?” He demanded, “You have nothing to say? You expect me to house you and protect you, now that you’ve thoroughly betrayed my trust?”

“If we had known—“ 

“No.” Tony cut Sam off, “No. You don’t get to do that, play like I’m the one who should feel bad for you. You hurt my family.”

He glanced at Rhodey, who, for all his mistakes, Tony would die for. 

But he looked at Nat, who at one point would have regular lunch dates with Pepper to no doubt talk shit about Tony. At Clint, who _knew_ what it was like to have juggle a family and danger with one hand tied behind his back. Sam, who had offered a comfort in the wild world that was Tony’s life. 

And Steve. 

Steve who looked at him with sorrowful eyes, despite being near the sole reason for Tony’s fear, and nightmares, and panic attacks. Steve who had been his friend and teammate and _brother_. 

They had been Tony’s family. They had also been the ones who had broken it. 

“You hurt my family,” Tony said again. 

There was something heavy and sad that lay on the table in front of them. Something that weighed down the furniture and their spirits. Something that had broken them and promised that it would never leave. 

“You can stay.” He managed out, not missing the looks of genuine relief on a few faces. “But we don’t talk. You stay away from me, and Pep, and the kid. Okay? You don’t come near us, and the moment Fury gives the word, you’re gone.”

When he included Peter with him and Pepper, though, there was interest. 

“Tony.” Clint spoke up,“I know it’s not our place to ask anymore, but who is the kid?”

“Peter.” Steve cut in, “His name is Peter.”

Time seemed to stop and Tony paled. “How do you know his name.” 

Fear reared its ugly head, ready to strike. They could not know about Peter. 

Steve shrugged, daring to be nonchalant. “We met.”

They’d met. 

Peter hadn’t mentioned it. Why hadn’t Peter mentioned it?

“When.” He managed out. Desperately, he wanted to ask Friday where the kid was, just to make sure he wasn’t somehow in danger. Despite all the danger being literally right in front of Tony, the fear grew and grew until he felt like he was choking on it. “When did this happen.”

“Last week, I want to say?” Steve looked far too casual to be talking about Peter. Peter wasn’t a casual conversation. Peter wasn’t someone that Steve should know. “I ran into him in the hallway looking kind of lost.” He shrugged again. “He turned down an invite to hang out with us.”

In the hallway—god please don’t let it be that one damn day…

“What was he wearing.”

Steve frowned. “A New York t-shirt, I want to say. And these pink PJ pants.”

Tony had found Peter almost having a panic attack outside his meeting room that day. He’d said that he had wanted to be with Tony. Oh god, what if Steve had recognized his voice? What would he have done if he figured out that the kid who had kicked ass during that one damn fight was in the building? And so, so vulnerable. 

Tony didn’t realize that it was getting harder and harder to breathe until Rhodey was there, hands out, talking, and talking, but Tony missed every other word, eyes still stuck on Steve. 

“Stay away—“ He gasped out, but he couldn’t even focus on Steve long enough to get the message across. “You stay the _fuck_ away—“

“Tony, I’m not going to hurt your kid—“

“Don’t go _near _him—“ 

Despite knowing full well that he was just in the dining room, Tony felt trapped. He felt cold. Scared. 

Steve towered above him, somehow a hundred feet tall, talking about _his kid_ and it was like he was back in that damn bunker. Like he was defenseless and in danger, but the only person he could think about was—

“Peter?”

*****

Tony wasn’t supposed to know that Peter had followed him. 

In all honesty, Peter had just wanted to watch the meeting, have an extra set of eyes in case the rogues tried to pull something. Carefully asking Friday questions that wouldn’t alert anyone to suspicious activity, Peter had scrambled his way into the vents and mapped out a route to the meeting spot. It was more physical activity than he’d done in what felt like months, having spent most of his time lying around and being miserable. It felt good to move again, and when he finally got himself positioned over the dining room with a view of the meeting, he was almost excited at the action of ‘doing something’. 

As he watched the meeting, anger and protectiveness swelled in his chest. How dare they harass Tony? While Peter may have first gone into battle against them mostly blind to their actions, there was no mistaking the hatred that now boiled in his mind when he saw them terrorizing his….his Tony.

Even as the team argued, Peter fully did not expect to have to intervene.

But then, Tony was scared. Tony was _panicking_, and the rogues were doing nothing but making it worse. 

“Hey!” Peter’s first shout came from the ceiling the moment he realized that the situation was only going to get worse. “Hey, get away from him!” 

The shock and confusion that came from Peter pulling back the vent and jumping down into the room did little to calm the chaos on the room, and Peter barely registered his mistake when he landed perfectly from what was easily a 10-foot drop to the floor.

“Peter?” Rhodey looked lost, a hand on Tony’s shoulder and his expression twisted into that of utter confusion. 

The rogues stared at him, jaws dropped, near awe on their faces, but Peter didn’t care. 

“Back up, all of you!” He fitted himself in between the team and Tony, who leaned against the wall in a way that suggested it was the only thing keeping him standing. Peter avoided looking him in the eyes, too scared of the disappointment that he’d find there, and instead focused his rage to the group. “What the fuck is your problem!” 

Captain America stared back at him, confusion, but realization in his eyes. Shit. 

“Kid—“ Hawkeye started forward a step and Peter’s heart jumped in fear. 

“Don’t come any closer!” His hands raised halfway up his chest in a move that was pure instinct, a move that meant _do not hurt me_. He remembered how close this group had come to ending his very short life at that airport. The man stopped his approach. “Who the fuck are you, a bunch of war criminals getting off on ruining other people's lives? You should be in jail. You should be left to the mercy of your victim’s families! You…” He pulled in a breath, anger running through his veins like fire. “You hurt Tony.” He leveled a glare at Captain America, rage in his eyes. “You almost _killed_ him.” 

Saying the words out loud to the man responsible held a sort of power that Peter scarily enjoyed. 

The group had backed up a few steps, silent. Behind him, Peter could hear Tony gasp for breath, Rhodey’s quiet reassurances doing little to calm him down. Peter doubted he was helping Tony’s situation any, but he couldn’t stop. 

“You call yourself heroes.” He spat. “You’re not heroes.” 

These had been the people who had turned on Tony when he needed them most. These were the people who had put him in that damn hospital bed for so long. The ones Peter had lost sleep over, in fear that they’d somehow find him and do to him what they had done to Tony. They scared him, more than he’d care to admit. 

Finally, he found his words. 

“You’re nothing.” 

There was a moment of absolute silence, in which Peter was sure he would be murdered on the spot for daring to yell at them. 

He nearly flinched when it was broken by Rhodey. 

“Give us a minute.” He said quietly, but in a voice that none had the strength to argue with.

At those words, the team seemed to break out of the awestruck silence that Peter had shoved them into. They left, though not without a few looks back that would revisit Peter while he lay awake in the middle of the night. 

“Peter.” Steve stood last in the room, hand on the door. “I’m so sorry.”

Peter glared at him, the hatred not ceasing. “I don’t fucking care.” 

Steve hesitated, then nodded, and left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy. things are getting serious. what's gonna happen next. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! your comments are making me beyond happy and I know I say that like every time I update but SERIOUSLY you're keeping me sane. 
> 
> How are y'all doing? school kicking your ass? bored as hell at home? realizing that "I don't have time" is no longer a valid excuse and you should probably start making your way through that very large bookshelf of cool books you haven't even opened? 
> 
> Question: I've been referring to the rogues by superhero name when we're focusing on peter bc he doesn't really know them by any other name. is that confusing? especially when I switch back to Tony and he uses first names? lmk


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got a short chapter for ya!!

Tony could barely breathe, Rhodey’s hand on his shoulder barely giving any sort of comfort. Somehow, he had slid his way to the floor, no doubt with Rhodey’s help. 

Peter was _there_. Peter was in _danger_. 

Even as the 5’10 teenager stood strong against the avengers, bravely yelling obscenities at earth’s mightiest heroes, he was in _danger_. 

“Pete—“ Any and every attempt to call the kid, to tell him to get out of there, to protect him, was barely heard over Peter’s yells. Truthfully, they barely made it past Tony’s lips. 

When he was finally met with silence, when the room seemed to fill with air again, Peter was still there. 

“Mr. Stark?” he sounded scared, oh god, he was scared. “You gotta breathe.”

_Run,_ Tony wanted to say, _Get out of here._

“Tones, it’s okay, Peter’s fine.” Rhodey’s voice was something that Tony had always likened to calm, to peace. Having it be the main source of comfort during panic attacks for decades, he had gotten used to it. “He’s fine, aren’t you, kid?”

And Peter was there, kneeling beside Tony with his hands fluttering around like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. His eyes were wide and it was with a jolt that Tony realized that _he_ was scaring Peter. 

He swallowed hard, feeling like he was forcing down the panic itself, and reached out a shaking hand to grab onto one of Peter’s, if anything to reassure the kid that _he_ was alright.

“‘m okay.” He managed out, gripping hard and feeling Peter holding tight right back. “‘m fine.” 

“Just breathe, Tones, don’t try to talk.”

“—re not gonna hurt you.” 

“I know, Mr. Stark, I know. I’m okay.” The kid was reassuring _him_.

It took a few minutes before he could breathe normally again, but it was with his first normal breath that Tony collapsed against the wall, shutting his eyes and refusing to let go of Peter’s hand. Part of him was sure the kid was going to leave the second he let him go, and it was through Tony’s own selfish reasons that he held on.

There was nothing but silence in the room as they just breathed. At a small press against his shoulder, Tony cracked open his eyes and saw Peter, carefully maneuvered against the wall beside him, eyes on the floor and his shoulder just barely touching Tony’s. 

“Commere.” Tony let go of Peter’s hand and pulled him instead against his side. Peter practically melted into the embrace, his head dropping onto Tony’s shoulder as he let out a short breath of relief. A sense of peace came over Tony, just sitting there with Peter held firmly against his side. “You okay?”

“Are you?”

“I’m fine.” Tony squeezed his shoulder. “You, though, you’re something else, kid.”

Peter turned worried eyes up to Tony. “In a good way?”

Tony forced out a laugh and when Rhodey let out a chuckle, he realized that his friend was still there. “Yes, Pete, in a good way.”

Peter nodded and lay his head down again. Tony turned to a rather guilty looking Rhodey.

“So.”

“Listen, Tones—“

“Hang on.” He nodded wearily down to where Peter was practically burrowed against him. “We can talk more later.”

Rhodey nodded, “Sounds good, man.”

At that, Tony felt Peter squeeze a little tighter against him. He smiled at the motion and when he looked up, Rhodey was watching them with a funny sort of smile. There was something in the look, something knowing and familiar and it sent a jolt of…_something_ through Tony’s system. At the look, something inside Tony built up a wall and he found himself freeing himself from Peter’s grasp. 

“Gotta go find Pep.” He played off the sudden movement, avoiding Peter’s eyes. “Gotta fill her in on the meeting, she wanted to know all the details.” 

He felt sick. How dare he shoulder his way into this kid’s life? He wasn’t a parent. He wasn’t _Peter’s _parent. Stark men were not parents and that was something that had been proven.No, Tony Stark was not father material. 

“Tones—“

“Pete, I’m gonna start making lunch in a bit, come on up when you’re ready.” Tony rubbed at his chest, harsher than normal, and didn’t miss the way Rhodey eyed the movement. “Friday’ll make sure you don’t run into anyone on the way up.”

With that, Tony left.

*****

Peter wasn’t sure what he did wrong. 

One moment he was _safe_, pressed up right against Tony’s side and taking comfort in the slightly unsteady beat of the man’s heart. The next, Tony was rushing out of the room like it was on fire, leaving Peter sitting awkwardly against the wall next to Mr. Rhodes. 

Since the…situation, Tony was nowhere to be found. Even hours later, Peter had yet to see him, even around the penthouse as he aimlessly wandered. 

At his arrival to the kitchen, Peter had found a small stack of perfectly made sandwiches—chips and pickles in all—sitting lonely on the counter. Friday informed him that “Mr. Stark is in his workshop and has asked not to be disturbed”, which only added to the guilt that Peter had maybe done something wrong. 

As it were, Peter lay sprawled on his floor, his hands kneading into the super fluffy rug that Tony had put there in a half-ass, self-soothing motion. He didn’t want to bother the mechanic and he knew that Pepper would most likely be busy, so he lay there. Alone. 

It was as he lay there that he began shuffling and sorting through the emotions and events of the day, finally allowing himself to work through what had happened. It was scary, he realized, a lot more scary than he had thought it to be in the moment. 

He, a very small superhero, taking on a good number of the avengers team, spitting insults and hurling obscenities. He could have been killed on the spot. 

And Captain America had figured something out. The way he looked at Peter, realization in his eyes…it sent shivers down Peter’s spine and he found himself looking up to make sure his door was still closed. Had he figured out Spiderman? Would he remember how Peter had stolen his shield that first time they had gone head to head? 

Would that be enough to incite an attack against Peter? 

Suddenly far more tense than he was a minute ago, Peter quickly crossed his room to lock the door. He knew logically that a locked door was nothing against the power of Captain fucking America, but it was a small reassurance. 

Friday would tell him if anyone was coming, right? Friday wouldn’t let them near him. 

“Fri?” He had to be sure. “Who’s allowed on this floor?”

“No one but yourself, Mr. Stark, and Miss Potts.” Her voice was reassuring and Peter found himself relaxing slightly. 

Peter stood in front of his closed door, quite unsure what to do. He felt trapped, now that he had locked the door, but at the same time, he did _not_ want to open it again. Nervous energy built up until it felt bunched in his chest, expanding and ready to be set loose as soon as he was startled by a fly buzz past. 

He was too jittery to lay back down, too exhausted to do anything but that. 

God, he wanted May to just—

May. 

It was with a shock that Peter realized that he had gone almost the entire day not even _thinking _about her. Her name hadn’t even flickered through his mind. 

“Fuck.” The panicked swear was out before he even registered it, already overwhelmed by the growing horror of _Am I forgetting her?_

He was at his desk, scrambling for a pen and paper; Luckily, Tony had thought ahead and had the desk already decked out with multicolored pens and pretty much every other writing instrument on the planet. 

“May’s cooking was the worst.”

The words are very small in the large room, followed only by the scribbling of the pen against the paper as he wrote them down. 

“May always wanted to go to Italy.”

_Scratch, scratch. _

_ “_May had a crush on Mr. Delmar’s delivery guy.”

_Scratch, scratch._

_“_May liked old movies.”

_Scratch, scratch._

His list was long, and the more he wrote, the calmer he felt. With his memorized immortalized on this small piece of paper, Peter found reassurance. 

He had May with him; That was good enough protection for the moment. 

He lost track of time after that, finding more and more tiny details to write down. The sun peered into his room, like it was checking to make sure he was safe. 

He was. He clung to the details of May and kept writing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, as always!! Tony's going through some SHIT folks!!!
> 
> Also, i'm talking to y'all in the comments like we're old buddies lmao if any of you ever wanna drop by my Tumblr (@attemptingauthor) and just CHAT please do so I want to talk to you guys!! literally just send me a message and we can be friends!!! 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter was a little weird. I know it's going kinda slow, but I promise I know where it's going. Even though that sentence sounds like I definitely don't know where it's going. I do.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey buddies! sorry i'm a day late with this one! It's pretty long tho, so enjoy!

After going over the bare minimum of details with Pepper, Tony locked himself in his workshop. It wasn’t the responsible thing to do, but he did it anyway.

“Fri,” he had managed out. “No one comes down here without my say-so, okay?”

She had agreed, albeit hesitantly. 

Which left Tony. Sitting alone in his workshop and realizing that it felt more lonely than it ever had before. 

Still, it beat being with people. 

Tony Stark was not an emotional man. Howard had taught him that at a very young age, and it’s at that very young age that one takes their parent’s words as gospel. Tony had believed him, and the constant spotlight trained on him for the rest of his life had only solidified that fact. He couldn’t—even if he _was_ — be an emotional person.

Even after the slow realization that maybe it wasn’t _always _true—after he had met Rhodey, and Pepper, and Happy—it was a hard habit to shake. Even now, years after that realization, he only allowed a certain amount of emotion in front of an audience. Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy had all had their fair share of emotional moments with Tony, in which he broke down only to shakily put himself back together with the insistence that he was fine. They were used to it, but it was still a painfully difficult thing for Tony to do. 

At a certain point, the assurance that his friends and family did not want to listen to the mess of Tony’s problems got to be too strong, so he cut it off. He only allowed a specific number of times before he once again shut himself away to deal with it on his own. 

And now, as he sat in his workshop, he tried to. 

Tony hated being afraid, as he assumed most people did too. Unfortunately for him, being afraid definitely came with the territory of his job. Even when he was just a kid, he was getting death threats in the mail. As he grew older and figured out that the press was its own little form of torture, it became another thing to fear. His position on the social and economic ladder put him in an already precarious position, but adding in his hobby of flying around in a tin can and fighting actual supervillains took the cake. 

Constant danger, constant fear. 

On his own, Tony figured he could probably hold his own fairly well. When he was younger and there was no one in his world but himself, he had been unhappy, sure, but at the same time, there was a power that he found in that singularity. It was Tony Stark against the world, and at that moment, that’s all that had mattered. 

And then, suddenly, there were people around him who _cared_ about him. They texted him for no reason other than to send him something they thought he’d like. They didn’t act like Tony was a god to be worshipped. They offered support, even if he didn’t take them up on the offer right away. 

They didn’t leave. 

Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey were just there one day, and they didn’t leave. 

They had tripled the fear that had been shoved down for years. They made it nearly overwhelming. Tony was one person, but the three of them felt like extensions of his own body, wandering around and putting themselves in danger, and it was _Tony_ who felt it. 

He hated himself, sometimes, for latching onto these people enough so that they were in danger by just knowing him, and that was before he even met the kid. 

Tony hadn’t known that it was possible to love someone and be so damn afraid of them at the same time. 

Peter was brilliant. He was smart and funny and weirdly cool, despite definitely being possibly more of a nerd than Tony was. The kid had a light coming off him that was so blinding that sometimes, Tony had to look away. 

May had raised a damn amazing kid, and it was with a small strike of pain in his heart that Tony realized that he had never really said that to her. 

Throwing himself down on the worn-out couch, Tony felt alone. 

The team that had once been the first real family he had had, was gone. His best friend in the entire world, though he loved him to pieces, had betrayed him in a way he never thought possible. 

And Peter. 

Truthfully, Tony knew that he was the one who was pushing Peter away, but it was for a good cause. The sickening fear that had come along with that otherwise innocent look from Rhodey hadn’t left, and it threatened to surround him. 

Rhodey had looked at Tony like he was a _dad_. He had that look on that adults always had when they saw a cute kid with their parent. 

That look was not for Tony. 

Tony was not a dad. 

As soon as he admitted _that_ to himself, the vulnerable, crime-fighting obsessed, teenager that had become an extension of his heart would only cause more pain. He didn’t think he could even handle the fear that would bring. A small part of his heart, swinging through New York at night; it was something that almost seemed too much to handle.

So he pushed Peter away, stewing in the guilt that came with the action, and hoping he was doing the right thing. Peter had to know that being one of Tony Stark’s “people” never ended well. He had to know that he was only putting himself in danger when he clung to Tony like he did. 

Right?

The image of Peter standing between him and the rogues came back to him, and Tony sat forward on the sofa, burying his face in his hands. 

“Fri, babe.”

“Yes, boss?”

“Show me the kid.”

Without verbal confirmation, a live stream video of Peter appeared in front of Tony and he felt his heart unclench slightly. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen, stuck watching as the kid scribbled furiously at his desk. 

He was so _small_. 

Somehow, Tony had manipulated him into being on his side again. Lord knew that Peter had originally joined the fight because Tony asked him too; Tony wasn’t even sure Peter knew _why_ they were fighting the rogues. He had followed because Tony asked him to, and that was something that Tony would never forgive himself for. He had turned that kid into a solider for him, just another pawn in a fight that should have just been between him and Steve. 

Today, Peter had fought on Tony’s side again, and the guilt nearly swallowed Tony whole. Did he not learn that nothing good came from siding with Tony?

He watched as Peter hunched over his desk, focused on whatever he was writing. 

“Fri, show me Pepper, too.”

An identical screen popped up, showing Pepper in her office on the phone, all grace and professionalism. A smile made it’s way onto Tony’s face as he watched her. 

“Fri?”

“Yes, boss?”

He paused. 

There had been a time where he would have a screen open for each member of the team. Those were the days when anxiety got to be a bit too much and the reassurance of seeing his family safe and alive was what got Tony through. Now, as he stared at the two screens, he was pushed down against the back of the couch by something heavy and real. When had so many turned into two?

“Never mind. Do we have any whiskey left in here?”

*****

It was hours after he had seen Tony that Peter ran into Pepper. 

“Miss Potts!” 

Pepper almost jumped, looking up from her phone to see Peter entering the kitchen just as she did. 

“Peter.” She smiled pleasantly. “You hungry? I was going to make some bread right now.”

“Um,” Peter’s growling stomach betrayed him and he reddened. “I can make my own food, Miss Potts.”

“Absolutely not, Tony’s told me how you survive on instant ramen. And I thought I told you to call me Pepper.”

Peter tried for a smile. It was still too soon for him to be familiar with her, as they hadn’t spent a whole lot of time speaking. Sitting in silence was more in their wheelhouse, and holding a conversation with her almost made Peter feel bad for not initiating one sooner. 

He took his seat at the counter, the one he usually took when it was Tony making him food or hot chocolate, like he just couldn’t _stand_ for Peter to not have a warm drink or a pile of slightly burnt toast on front of him. 

“Miss Potts?” 

Pepper’s eyes narrowed playfully at the name, but she still smiled. “Yes, Peter.”

“Where’s um,” his fingers danced on the counter, tapping out patterns. “Where’s Tony?”

At Pepper’s frown, he quickly amended: “Not that I don’t want to hang out with you! I just mean, I haven’t seen him for a while and…you’re really cool too, Miss Potts.” He finished lamely, realizing how incredibly rude he sounded. 

Instead of being upset, though, Pepper smiled softly. “Tony’s down in his workshop. He told me he wants to get some work done and not to bother him unless it’s an emergency.”

As good as Pepper was at lying, there was something in her eyes that Peter didn’t trust. 

“He’s getting work done?” 

Pepper seemed to realize that it wasn’t a very plausible excuse when it came to Tony, but she nodded. “Sometimes he gets….worked up.” She chose her words carefully, still moving around the kitchen and pulling ingredients from the shelves. The way Tony cooked, Peter had half expected there to be no food in the kitchen, but Pepper pulled out spices and fancy flours like it was nothing. “He likes to collect his thoughts when he’s by himself.”

Peter nodded, hands still nervously moving around the countertop. “Is it…is it because of me?”

Please say no, please say no.

Pepper hesitated. “He was a little shaken up today.” She said, and Peter felt something deflate in his chest. 

“Did he say why?” He pushed, “Was it because of me? Was he—did I do something? Because I really didn’t mean to, Miss Potts, I don’t know what I did. He was, um, he was holding me and—“ He shook his head, not quite able to look Pepper in the eyes. “I guess I did something wrong? But I don’t know.”

There he went, ruining the last actual parental type relationship that he had. Was it the way he put his head on Tony’s shoulder? He’d done that before; He’d thought that was fine. Maybe the way he had held onto Tony’s hand even after the panic had subsided—

“—ter? Peter.”

“Hm?”

Pepper watched him with a deep frown, hands resting on the counter and worry in her eyes. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What was that? What happened?”

Peter shrugged. He didn’t want to explain to her that he had messed up. 

“Honey, it’s okay. Tony just doesn’t like to see you in danger like that. He’ll be okay.”

Peter looked up. “What?”

“I think you just scared him a little,” Pepper continued. 

“But I did something.” Peter insisted. “I did something and he got up and left.”

“Oh, honey.” Pepper came around the counter, looking like she wanted to hug Peter but hesitating right before she reached him. “He got scared when you confronted the team. He thought you were going to get hurt and it freaked him out. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Peter sat in silence and awe, absently watching as Pepper went around the counter again and started mixing ingredients together. The yeast looked weird when it was mixed with the water, spreading out and forming a layer over the top. 

In all honesty, Peter wasn’t convinced he _hadn’t _done something wrong. Tony had left in such a hurry that he didn’t even have a chance to ask if he really was okay after the whole situation. 

Pepper kept up a one-sided conversation as she worked, stirring in the (very) simple ingredients before dumping the sticky dough on a baking sheet. Peter declined to say a word, only nodding along to the conversation and offering a few hums in response when it seemed like Pepper was expecting one. He could see that she was watching him, but Peter found that he didn’t really care. He trusted Pepper. Tony trusted Pepper, which meant that Pepper was safe to be around, and that was good enough for Peter. He let his guard down, resting his chin on his arms as he absently watched her, only half listening. 

Pepper was safe, he would remind himself every few minutes when he felt his heart rate spike. No one was coming into the penthouse. They were safe. 

His eyes drooped lower, as he watched Pepper cover the dough to let it rise. She continued talking, leaning on the counter like Peter was still part of the conversation. 

He tried to listen—he really did—but his head felt so _heavy_ on his arms and the constant sound of Pepper's voice and the smell of the rising dough seemed to settle over him like a blanket. 

Safe. 

Warm. 

Peter wondered vaguely if the rising bread felt the same way. He wouldn’t mind being a half-formed lump of dough, warmed on top of a preheating oven. Topped with some rosemary… 

As close as he was to dropping off to sleep, Peter was still jarred awake by the slight sound of Pepper’s footsteps. He jerked his head up, looking around the empty kitchen in a panic. 

She was gone. 

Oh god, had someone gotten her? Was she being kidnapped? 

“Miss Potts!” His voice came out strangled, half asleep, and scared, and he nearly fell off his stool as he got up. “Miss Potts!” 

“Peter?” She appeared around the doorway of the kitchen, a frown on her face and a bunched up blanket in her arms. “Oh, I thought you were asleep.” She held up the blanket. “Thought maybe you were cold.”

Oh. 

Peter sagged against the counter, stunned into silence with relief and a small, warm light in his heart at the gesture. She was bringing him a blanket. She wasn’t kidnapped. 

They were safe. 

“Thanks.” He managed. “Um, I’m awake now.”

“I see that.” Pepper offered him a wry smile and placed the blanket down on the stool beside him. “Want to help me finish the bread?”

He nodded mutely, slipping off the stool and following her around the counter. If Pepper noticed that he was sticking closer to her than he had been before, she didn’t say anything. He followed Pepper’s quiet instructions and sprinkled the dough with salt and Parmesan cheese, leaning slightly against her side and wishing for Tony. 

“There we go.” Pepper looked pleased with Peter’s work, though he was sure he either put too much or too little on the dough and had ruined her bread. “Now we stick this in the oven and wait for a bit.”

There was a pause, as Peter realized that his time with Pepper was probably coming to an end. She’d go back to work and he’d go back to his room, back to his rug, and Tony would still be in his workshop. 

“Or,” Pepper continued, nonchalant, “We could hunker down and watch something. Tony never says it, but I know he gets tired of watching HGTV with me all the time.”

Peter smiled weakly. “He makes you watch all those boring history documentaries, though.”

Pepper’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I like you Peter. You’re a good one.”

For a moment, Peter glowed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter is not dealing with this whole situation well ... 
> 
> tbh this story started out really simple and then I kept adding stuff to it as i drafted it and now i have like 50 things to juggle at once hahaaaa I'm a clown and I gotta make sure I don't forget something important 
> 
> anyway, tell me about y'all's weeks! Did you do anything cool? if you're in school, how's school going? we may as well make friends lmao we're not going anywhere


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we getting EMOTIONAL with this one folks!!!! Real sad boy hours!!

It was late when Tony finally left the lab. 

Well, early, he supposed, but he still considered it to be ‘late’ until the sun rose. From the small glances out the window, he was cutting it close. He’d purposefully put off going back to the penthouse for hours; he didn’t think he’d be able to stand it if he ran into Pepper or Rhodey or, god forbid, Peter. One look at one of them and Tony was sure he’d be reduced to anxiety, tears, whatever. 

“Fri,” he mumbled, “penthouse.”

The elevator opened and he stumbled in, frowning down at his feet. Huh. He hadn’t thought he’d drunk that much. 

The thought left Tony with a slight sinking feeling of disappointment. It wasn’t like he had been completely sober _before_ Peter had come along, but he had definitely taken a step back lately, especially after the scare with Sokovia. Pepper had given him this heartbroken look when he had asked for a whiskey almost immediately after surgery and something inside him had snapped. Now it was only a “special occasions” thing. At least it had been until Peter had arrived, all big eyes and trusting smile. Tony couldn’t fail him. 

He’d been resolute in that he hadn’t touched a drop in the past few weeks. If anything happened and he wasn’t at his very best to deal with it…Tony honestly didn’t think he’d be able to handle the guilt. But now, out of his mind with worry and stress, he’d turned back to a constant he’d thought he was done with. 

A flash of memory fluttered by: Howard with that goddamned glass in hand.

_Clink, clink._

It was at age seven that Tony decided that he never wanted to drink. 

_Clink, clink._

It was at age nine that Tony saw what it did to people, how _hurtful_ it could make them. 

_Clink, clink. _

He had been fifteen the first time he drank. He’d been expecting backlash, someone yelling at him that it was dangerous, someone _worried_ about him. But no one had noticed. 

_Clink, clink_

Tony snapped out of whatever sort of flashback he was stuck in, suddenly sickened by what he’d done. The stink of failure followed him and filled the elevator space, until Tony found himself crossing his arms tight against his chest to ward it off. 

With a _ding! _the doors opened to the dark penthouse. 

Well, not completely dark. 

A single lamp lit up the couches, so singular that one could make out the exact shape of light that it threw. It was lonely and cold and the longer Tony stared at it, the worse he felt. 

Had someone left the light on for him? 

Or had they just forgotten to turn it off? 

A small noise sounded from the couch blocked from his view, and Tony—almost fearfully—peeked over the back of it to see. 

Peter lay curled up against the cushions, still in his day clothes, and holding a throw pillow so tight against his chest that Tony was surprised he hadn’t ripped it. There was a blanket nearby, but from the way he sat—almost sitting up— he hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He looked small and innocent and Tony’s heart ached. 

How dare he think of Peter as his? How dare he wish they shared a name, shared blood?

A quick glance at the coffee table brought an even sadder level to the situation. Two mugs, one empty and one clearly waiting for Tony. 

The kid had waited up for him, or had at least tried to. 

Tony roughly and clumsily scrubbed his eyes, not allowing tears to fall. 

He didn’t deserve this kid. This kid, this personification of the word “good”, sleeping on Tony’s couch because Tony was too much of an ass to just _talk_ to him. 

Logically, he knew that he should wake Peter up and get him to bed; sleeping on the couch sucked, no matter how expensive the couch was, but Tony couldn’t bring himself to move. To touch him. What if he woke up? What if he asked what Tony had been doing all day? The shame of telling the truth fought back against the need to move him to bed. 

Tony stood, frozen, at the back of the couch. 

Absently, he played with the idea of carrying Peter to bed, so carefully, so as not to wake him up, but the thought was gone just as fast as it had arrived. He didn’t deserve to _touch _this kid, much less hold him. 

Tears still stinging his eyes, Tony went to bed. 

*****

_Peter lay on the couch, waiting. Tony was taking a long time, but he was sure that the man would appear any moment. He had to, his coffee was getting cold. _

_ He’d been on the couch for what felt like hours, staring at the ceiling and waiting. He could wait, though. He was good at that. _

_ “Peter?”_

_ May?_

_ Peter tried to turn to look, to find her somewhere in the room, but he was stuck. Pinned against the couch by something invisible and strong, Peter’s eyes jumped wildly, looking for an attacker, looking for _May_. _

_ “May?” He could still talk. “May? Where are you? I can’t see you. Where did you go?” _

_ “Peter?”_

_ “May!”_

_ “Come on, baby, let’s go home. I want to go home.”_

_ Peter could have cried. Of course, he didn’t. “I want to go home too, May.” _

_ “Come with me.”_

_ “I can’t.” Despite what felt like very forceful struggles, Peter still couldn’t move. “I can’t move. I can’t—May, help me, please, I can’t move!”_

_ “You don’t want to come with me?” She sounded heartbroken._

_ “I do!” Peter was frantic, “May, I do! I just need you to help me!”_

_ “Okay, baby, I won’t make you.”_

_ “No!” He felt sick. He felt scared. “May, no! Take me with you, _please—_”_

_ There were footsteps. Oh god, the footsteps. The ones that had haunted him since he had thought Pepper had left him, now back and far more real. _

_ “May!”_

_ There was no answer. Of course, there wasn’t. She had left. _

_ “May!” _

_ Silence answered back. Silence, until—_

_ “Peter Parker from Queens.”_

_ Peter’s blood ran cold. He glanced around, desperate to find the voice that had haunted his nightmares for months. _

_ “I knew I recognized you from somewhere.”_

_ “I’m not—“_

_ “Spiderman.”_

_ Unlike May, Captain America stepped into Peter’s field of vision. He was in full uniform, somehow standing nine feet tall over Peter. _

_ He felt tiny. Insignificant. Helpless. _

_ “I knew it was you the moment I met you. Tony’s little pet project. His little soldier.” His shield looked larger than life, hanging over Peter like the blade of a guillotine. _

_ “No.” Peter managed out, strangled and scared. “No, listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” To what? Fight? He had. He had fought to protect Tony and he would again. _

_ “You’re just a little spider.” _

_ “No, wait—“_

_ “Spiders have gotta be squished.”_

_ “Tony!”_

_ The shield was raised. _

_ “Tony!” _

_ It dropped. _

“Tony!”

There were hands on his shoulders and Peter launched himself backward, nearly falling off the couch in his attempt to get away. 

“No, no, no, get away—!”

The hands were gone instantly, leaving Peter to curl up tight against the armrest, hands clamped over his own ears and his eyes shut tight. 

He wanted Tony. He wanted _May._

He wanted to go with her, to wherever it was that she was going. He wanted to just _go_, away from being scared and helpless and alone. He just wanted…

He just wanted to be held again. 

He wanted the rose-like smell of the shampoo that she used. 

He wanted burned food and takeout. 

He wanted his goddamn _family_ back. 

“Peter.”

He shook his head. That wasn’t May.

“Underoos.”

That was Tony. At the realization, his pounding heart stuttered, as if noticing that he wasn’t in danger anymore. 

“There we go, kid, there we go.” 

He smelled like motor oil and home and…whiskey?

“Can you give me your hands? Just like that, good job, you’re doing so good.”

Ears uncovered, Peter could hear the reassurance being shoved into Tony’s voice, the calm, quiet, easy sound that he had gotten used to, even if it was paired with a slightly fast-paced heart rate. 

“May.”

It was a strangled sound, something half baked and probably not even English, but Tony understood. 

“I know, baby, I know.”

For a split second, both froze at the nickname, but Tony continued anyway. 

“Let it out, it’s okay.”

Peter pulled his shaking hands away from Tony’s rough, gentle ones, scrabbling against his own cheeks. 

They were wet. 

Tears. 

_Tears._

It was relief alone that had Peter collapsing against Tony’s side, finally, _finally_ sobbing against his chest. 

Whatever Tony was saying to him was lost. Peter reveled in the sounds of his own sobs, selfishly relieved that he wasn’t moving on from May. They were choked and loud and he struggled to breathe around them, but they were _his_. And they _hurt._

He clung to Tony with more force than necessary, but Tony didn’t falter, even when they both heard the slight ripping sound as Peter tore the hem of his shirt. He didn’t leave, though it wasn’t like Peter would have let him. 

“—wanna _go_, Tony, please, I just wanna—“

Tony’s mumbled reassurances were lost under the sound of Peter’s own stuttering voice, but the hand holding him tight against Tony’s chest offered more reassurance than words could have. 

“I miss her so much, Tony, I don’t want to be without her—“

“Tony?”

At the sound of Pepper’s voice, Peter burrowed closer against Tony, somehow ashamed to show her that he was crying. 

_ Crying, _he thought, _finally._

“Hey, Pep, did I wake you up?”

_I. _

It was like Tony knew that a “we” would have sent Peter spiraling with guilt. 

“It’s okay.” There was a shift on the couch cushions as Pepper sat to join them, offering a silent sort of comfort. “I was getting up anyway.”

The three of them sat together, the silence only broken by Peter’s tears and occasional gasping words as he tried to explain what had happened. 

Peter felt safe, despite the recent panic. 

Wrapped up in Tony’s arms with Pepper’s gentle comfort wrapping around the three of them, Peter felt _safe_. He felt cared for. He felt loved. 

It was after what felt like hours that his breathing had calmed down and he allowed himself to speak. 

“I wanted to go with her.”

It was a guilty admittance, and it sounded far too loud after so much silence. 

“What do you mean, honey?” 

Peter, buried against Tony’s chest, reached out a blind hand to search for Pepper’s until she took it and held it tight. 

“May.” He explained, choked. Guilty. Scared. “I want to go with her. I want to _leave_. I don’t want to be…”

Tony sucked in a breath. 

Peter didn’t finish his sentence. They knew what he was trying to say. 

_I don’t want to be here._

“Oh, _baby_.”

The words should have felt foreign, coming from Tony and aimed at Peter, but they weren’t. Tony just pulled him impossibly closer, tucking Peter under his chin so that Peter felt more than saw the hard swallow as Tony fought back his own tears. 

Pepper pressed a kiss to the back of Peter’s hand and Peter understood for the millionth time how Tony had fallen in love with her. 

They were a team together, in everything from making food to comforting him at odd hours of the night. In a way, they reminded him of Ben and May. Best friends. A part of Peter yearned to be a part of that team. 

“Are you…” it had taken a few minutes to work up the courage to speak again, after his confession. “Are you mad at me?” He began to pull away from Tony, but Tony held him in place. “For, um, for yelling at the avengers?”

“Pete—“

“Because I didn’t want to go to bed with you mad at me,” Peter rushed out, “May and I never let each other go to bed mad and I couldn’t stand you being mad at me and…” He glanced guiltily towards where the two mugs still sat on the table and felt Tony follow his gaze. 

“I’m not mad.” Tony’s voice sounded rough, like he hadn’t used it in a while. “I promise. Not mad.”

“But you left?” For the first time in over an hour, Peter pulled away to see Tony’s face, surprised to find matching streaks of tears down his cheeks. Tony hurriedly wiped them away, but Peter had seen them. “After…after everything. You left.”

There was a pause. Pepper kissed his hand again.

“I’m going to make some coffee.” She got up, laying a gentle hand on Peter’s head as she passed. “You two need to talk.”

Peter watched Tony, still too close to get a great look, but he didn’t make any move to get further away. The man looked tired, and not just in a “woke up in the middle of the night” sort of way. There was a weight on his shoulders that Peter couldn’t name. 

“I’m not mad.” Tony started. “I wasn’t mad. Not at you, kid.” He smiled, but it seemed to crack under the weight. “I just got a little freaked out, that’s all.”

“Because of me?” 

For a moment, Tony started to say something, but cut himself off. “Yeah. Just a little.”

Peter’s heart dropped. “Oh.”

“I just, I dunno.” Tony scrubbed a hand down his face, his eyes scrunched closed. “Rhodey gave me this _look_, you know, and I guess I wasn’t expecting it? It threw me off.”

Peter nodded, though thoroughly confused. 

“I didn’t want you to see me freak out so I got out of there. You don’t need to see me freak out. Well,” He laughed, squeezing Peter’s shoulder a little. “I guess it’s too late for that.”

When Peter didn’t answer, Tony frowned. “That was a joke, I’m sorry.”

“You’re not mad at me?” 

“No. I said that.”

“I thought I did something wrong.”

A beat of silence passed. 

“What?” Tony dropped his head. “Oh no, kid, I’m so sorry.” 

“I thought you hated me—“

“I knew I didn’t handle that well…” 

And Peter was back in Tony’s arms. If he had known it was so easy to get a hug out of Tony, he’d have done so much earlier. 

“We’re gonna talk about things, kid.” Tony’s voice was muffled against Peter’s shoulder, but he nodded anyway. “We’re going to communicate better. I’m gonna _do_ better. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“Good.”

Peter found himself quite lost with the conversation. The faint woody smell that trailed after Tony hinted at the fact that he’d been drinking, which could possibly have explained his behavior, but Peter didn’t think they were close enough for _this_ sort of bonding. 

Tony held him like he was something precious. Something to be saved and protected. Peter didn’t feel like he deserved that kind of touch, at least not from someone like Tony. He sat, cradled against the man’s chest like a child, and with a blink, he realized that that’s what he was. 

The adult facade that he held up so often and for so long was gone; There were no striking realizations. There was no neon sign above his head that said “Still A Kid!”. 

He simply was. 

He felt unbearably young and old at the same time, weighed down, but gently lifted up at the same time. 

“Tony?”

“Yes, kid?”

“Are you mad that I wanted to go with May?”

_That I wanted to leave you? That I threw your kindness back in your face? _

“No, kid, I’m not mad.”

A kiss on Peter’s hair felt so gentle and disarming, and tears sprang back to his eyes. 

“Okay.” A whisper. 

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all your sweet comments about how your day/week was????? Made my day????? I love hearing from you!! 
> 
> Personally, my week has been a big ol' mess (some good some bad) but we're still making it through! School's almost done for the semester, a really cute girl facetimed me to show me some flowers she found, I made a KILLER sandwich today. We're surviving babes!!
> 
> Hope you're all having a good days <3


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> folks my GOD the world has changed even more in this past week!! Fuck cops!!! Holy shit fuck cops!!!
> 
> here's a chapter, enjoy

Peter nearly fell asleep on Tony’s shoulder, and Tony nearly let him, almost physically unable to bring himself to rouse the exhausted kid. Pepper had been the one to force him to move. 

The kid wandered down the hall back to his room, Tony worriedly guiding him in fear of him crashing into a wall. Halfway down the hallway, Peter’s hand lifted, catching itself against Tony’s sleeve and latching on, his eyes still closed. 

Tony damn near cried on the spot. 

He was overwhelmed in the face of Peter’s trust in him. He was broken open at the thought that he was—along with Pepper, of course—Peter’s only family. 

“Tony.”

His own name sent him reeling. Peter hadn’t even seemed to have noticed that he’d switched from “Mr. Stark” to “Tony” almost seamlessly. 

“Yeah, kiddie?”

“‘M tired.”

He laughed, quietly, so as not to wake Peter up more. “I know you are.”

“Mm.”

They made it back to Peter’s room, Tony helping as best he could to pull the blankets down and then tuck them close to the kid’s chin. His hands shook with the gentle gesture. 

“Tony.”

He couldn’t stop smiling at the name. “Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks.”

“Not a problem. Okay?”

“‘Kay.”

He seemed to fall asleep after that, leaving Tony slouched in the desk chair, and quite unable to look away from the steady rise and fall of the heap of blankets that his kid was under. 

“Tony?”

It’s also where Pepper found him minutes later, holding the coffee. 

“You’re an angel.” He whispered, as she brought his mug over and settled down on top of the desk behind him with her own. 

They sat quietly, sipping their coffee and pretending like they weren’t both watching Peter. 

“Is that what new parents feel like?” Pepper finally asked, and Tony nearly choked on his coffee as he laughed. “What?”

“Nothing.” He whispered back. “Yeah. Probably.”

“Scared.” Pepper nodded. “Out of their depth. Overwhelmed.”

“Yeah.”

Silence settled like new snow around them. 

The room was still, peaceful. The aftermath of something huge and powerful. A crack in the curtains allowed a finger of light to gently lay across the bed, careful and kind. 

“Do you think we’re doing okay?” Tony asked. It was a selfish question; He knew that Pepper would reassure him, especially after what they had just gone through, but he needed the reassurance. 

“I think we could be doing better.” Pepper surprised him and he glanced up at her. She looked like a goddess in the dim light of the room: wise and powerful. “But I also don’t think any parent is going to be perfect. Peter knows that no situation will be perfect. He’s been through far too much at too young an age to believe that, I think.”

“We just need to do our best.” Tony nodded, resolute. “God, I don’t want to let him down. “

“Fuck, me neither,” Pepper muttered back, wrapping an arm around Tony’s shoulders. “When you told me you wanted a kid a few months ago, this sure isn’t what I had in mind.”

Tony laughed weakly. “Me neither. He’s…” He didn’t know what word he was looking for. 

“He’s perfect.” Pepper whispered, and Tony leaned back against her. 

There, in the still silence of the room and the moonlight, Tony felt at peace. 

****

Tony wasn’t going to be able to sleep that night. 

At around seven, Pepper seemed to come to the same conclusion and ordered breakfast, neither too keen on actually cooking something at the moment. 

Tony called Rhodey. 

“You sure?” It was always good to hear the man’s voice, even after what he’d pulled. “I don’t want to push you.”

“You’re not pushing me, man.” Tony sighed, sinking a little deeper into the couch cushions. “Just come up and have breakfast and let's talk this out. I’m tired of being mad at you. I literally don’t have the emotional capacity to juggle that along with everything else.”

Rhodey came. 

It wasn’t awkward like Tony feared it would be. Pepper seemed to have overheard the phone call and when Rhodey arrived, as there was an extra breakfast for him at the table. 

They sat, all but Rhodey half asleep as they ate. Tony’s mind kept wandering back to Peter, wondering if he was sleeping okay, wondering if he had enough blankets, wondering if Tony was doing enough. 

It was only after they finished eating that Rhodey brought up the tense subject. 

“So.”

Tony sighed. “So.I’m…I’m sorry.”

“What?” Rhodey shook his head. “No, _I’m _sorry. What I did was inexcusable, especially because I knew that you and them were in a shakey spot. They were just supposed to be over here for a day or so, while you were gone. It wasn’t until they were here that Fury called to keep them here.” He rubbed the back of his neck, and while he looked guilty, he knew well enough to not blame anyone but himself. “It was fucked up, Tony, I know that. I was dealing with him and the Rogues without telling you and more so, I was bargaining with your home.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t great.” Tony agreed, and Rhodey snorted. “But you know I would have done the same thing, right? With this being the only option other than, you know. The Raft.”

Pepper frowned. She knew vaguely what had happened during the meeting, but Tony had only gone over a few points of the conversation with her before shutting himself back in the lab. 

“Fury was threatening to lock everyone up,” Rhodey explained. “I knew it was bad between them and Tony, but I didn’t think it was, I dunno, worth putting them under Ross’ lock and key.”

Pepper wasn’t convinced. “Still.”

“No,” Tony sighed, “No Pep, I can’t do that to them.”

“They hurt you.” She was angry, and it warmed Tony’s heart in a vindictive sort of way. “They should rot in hell.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to think the same thing,” Rhodey muttered. 

“No, no, they’re staying.” Tony finished. “They’re staying.”

“I don’t want them near Peter.” Pepper said fiercely, “They don’t talk to him, they don’t look at him, they don’t _think_ about him. That poor kid has been through enough already and I’ll be damned if I let that group touch a hair on his head.”

She stood up suddenly, grabbing the leftovers and throwing them in the trash. Rhodey glanced between the two of them, unsure. 

“I know it’s not my place to ask anything,” he started, hesitantly, like Tony or Pepper would jump at him if he said the wrong word. Tony wasn’t 100% sure he wouldn’t, as long as Peter was the topic of conversation. “But who _is_ this kid? Where did he come from?”

So Tony told him everything. It took over an hour, in which they moved back to the couches, and Tony made more coffee. A few times, he found himself almost in tears just retelling the story. God, the kid really was turning him into a softie. 

In all honesty, it felt good to talk about the situation with Rhodey. He didn't leave out details and there was no fear of judgment. 

“So you’re, what, adopting him?” Rhodey had waited until the end of the story to ask questions, much to Tony’s relief. “You’re gonna be a dad?”

Pepper snorted. “He’s already a dad. You should have seen him a few hours ago.”

Tony’s face warmed, though he couldn’t help thinking that he could have done better, _been _better, had he not spent the whole night drinking. Sure, he was under stress, but what if Peter had woken up from that nightmare and Tony had been passed out in the lab? What if Tony had to find out second hand in the morning? 

“Yeah.” Tony swallowed. “Yeah, I think we’re gonna adopt him.”

Rhodey nodded slowly, sizing Tony up. For a moment, Tony bristled, but Rhodey just looked satisfied. “That’s gonna be good for you.”

“It’s for Peter.” Tony defended, though he knew that it wasn’t entirely true. “He needs stability and I gotta be there for him now. I always want—“ he cleared his throat, “I always want him to feel safe with us. Secure. He’s gotta know that we’re here for him, no matter what.”

Pepper put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently as Tony stared down the floor. He could get emotional in front of Rhodey and Pepper; they’d both stuck around long enough to achieve that level of intimacy, but it was still hard to express vulnerability in front of anyone, especially in the (frankly, fragile) state that he was in. 

“Okay, man.” Rhodey’s voice was soft, understanding, and Tony felt a rush of relief that there was no longer anything between him and his friend anymore. “Tell me about him, yeah?”

“You want to hear about the coolest kid in the world?” Pepper asked, and Tony could almost see her figuratively rolling her sleeves up. 

“I mean, the kid’s practically my nephew.” Rhodey laughed, “So yeah, I want to hear about him.”

There was silence from Pepper, and Tony took his cue. “He’s got this light.” He started, a smile already forming on his face, though he didn’t try all that hard to hide it. “He glows, man, he’s so…he’s so damn _good_. He makes me feel bad about not being as good as he is. He once told me that when it rains, he buys dollar store umbrellas to hand out to homeless people as he walks home from school. It wasn’t a brag, it’s just something he does.” 

“Damn, that makes me feel like an awful person for not doing that.” Rhodey leaned back on the couch, and with the movement came a sense of familiarity and comfort. 

“He would tell me about this cat that lives in a bodega, like every single week. Updates on Murray.”

Tony had an endless list of Peter Facts to tell Rhodey and it was so freeing to tell someone new. 

“He still plays with Legos.”

“There’s this one mug and he literally always chooses it. Some old, beat up thing. He’s got some bad tastes, sometimes, I’ll admit that.”

“Honestly, the most selfless person I’ve ever met. To a fault, though.”

Pepper joined in: “You should see how he falls asleep on Tony. I have pictures.”

From there, the morning devolved into Pepper and Rhodey fawning over some sneak pictures she’d taken when the two of them fell asleep on each other, or when Peter just fell asleep on Tony and the man was unable to stop his fiancee from taking the picture without waking Peter up. Grudgingly, though he wouldn’t admit it outright, Tony loved those pictures. 

As he lay back on the couch, Tony found his eyes drooping shut as he listened to two of his favorite people going back and forth. 

“Fri?” He whispered into his phone. 

“Yes, Boss?” She whispered back. What a clever bot. 

“Give me Peter’s heartbeat?”

A second later, his phone gently began to vibrate in the rhythm of a heartbeat, a steady, even pattern that brought endless reassurance. 

The quick background noise and the steady rhythm of his phone lying on his chest lulled him into a much-needed nap, his mind finally settling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys are protesting, stay safe, be smart, look out for your group!! The world's changing and there's no going back to the way it was after this. 
> 
> Donate, protest, spread information, and STAND BY THIS MOVEMENT!! As someone who is not black to all my other non-black folks, we are here to BOOST THESE VOICES. We're here to protect, stand by and uplift, not step in with our hot takes. Once again, FUCK cops, my god. 
> 
> Stay safe!! Keep speaking up and spreading info!! And I'd say happy pride, but we're skipping straight to wrath this year, aren't we!!!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey folks how's your week been?? hopefully as good as it can be!! here's a chapter for ya!!
> 
> please remember that this is HEAVILY unedited hahaa

The funeral came faster than Peter had thought it would. One would think he’d be an expert on funerals, at this point; While he had been to both his parents’ and Ben’s funerals, Spiderman had been to countless others. 

It wasn’t something that he’d planned to start doing. There had been this fire, only a few blocks from his own home, that had bested him. He’d saved all but one person, and that had been enough to break him for a week. Unable to eat or sleep without being swallowed up by guilt, until he finally made his way to the cemetery to visit her grave. 

From there, he moved onto attending funerals. The guilt of having not saved someone was somewhat eased when he went to their funerals, and it had gotten to the point where Spiderman was half expected to show up. He’d stand, away from the crowd, but there, his shoulders slumped as he let a few tears slip behind the mask. No one knew about his habit for funeral crashing, at least not anyone who knew _Peter_. Ned didn’t even know. 

Still, even with the experience that he had with funerals, May’s own crept up on him. Before he knew it, the day had arrived and the weight of it kept him pinned down under the blankets. 

He had awoken already knowing that today was the day, no surprise realization or anything. He simply lay there, the morning light seeping into his room through the floor to ceiling windows and soaking into the rug. 

The room, although now branded as his own, still had yet to feel like his. It was too nice. The windows were perpetually clean, enough so that a little thrill ran through him when he stood to close, as if they weren’t even there and nothing was stopping him from just toppling through them. Peter’s designated “laying down rug” was plush, almost like a mattress in itself. The room itself was decorated in a way that screamed “Peter”, but at the same time, still felt horribly detached. 

He hadn’t decorated the room. There was little of his there, other than what he’d brought from home; everything else being tasteful and new and untouched. Posters, the bedspread, the unopened Lego sets lining the shelves. He knew that Tony had a hand in decorating, which did honestly help, but at the same time, he occasionally wished for a blank room. 

After the breakdown he’d had a few nights before, Peter and Tony’s relationship had changed in a way that Peter hadn’t expected. Tony had seemed to realize how desperate Peter was for physical contact, and he obviously did his best to provide it whenever possible. From an arm around Peter’s shoulders or just sitting close to each other on the couch, Peter felt a deep mix of embarrassment and happiness whenever Tony made a show of hugging him. Pepper was the same way, though her touches were more gentle: a kiss on the forehead or a soft hand against his cheek. 

Tony and Pepper made him feel loved, and it, along with the ever-present guilt made for an odd couple. He could go from laughing with Pepper as they watched tv to curled up and hidden beside his bed in less than ten minutes. It was exhausting. 

He knew logically, at this point, that May would have wanted him to be happy. He knew that he was doing her memory good when he let himself be vulnerable with Tony and Pepper. The guilt was just difficult to combat after spending so long stewing in it. 

A knock came at the door, but Peter ignored it, instead turning over and allowing the pile of expensive blankets obscure him from view. The knocking came again, this time followed by a quiet “Peter?”

Again, he ignored it, feeling both disappointment and relief when the doorknob turned. He knew that it was Tony out there; He tended to pay visits every few hours when Peter locked himself in his room. 

“You up, kid?” Tony sounded sad and he could just picture how he leaned against the doorway, anxious hand resting over his chest. Peter felt slightly guilty for ignoring him, but not enough to make him turn over and face him. “I made breakfast.”

Peter stared out the windows, his chest feeling hollow and empty. Maybe he had left his heart somewhere. Maybe it had died along with May. Maybe he would bury it today. 

Tony moved to sit on the edge of his bed with a sigh, his hand coming up to rest on Peter’s still covered ankle. 

“I know you’re awake.”

Peter shrugged. 

“You think you can get up?”

It was a simple question, but it read far deeper. 

_Did he think he would be okay? Did he think he would make it through the day? _

While he did feel that overwhelming weight settling over him like a hand, pushing him further into the mattress, guilt and a little bit of love chewed at him as well. 

Tony was trying. 

It was more than what Peter seemed to be doing, and the fear that Tony would eventually run out of patience and leave the room had him rolling over to face his mentor. 

He was still occasionally revisited by the fear that Tony would regret taking him in. The assurance that it was “his choice” to keep Peter only made the ice beneath his feet seem that much thinner. If this was something that Tony _wanted, _who’s to say he wouldn’t change his mind as well? He had to have his limit, and from what Peter did know about him, he didn’t have that much experience with moody teenagers. 

The thought of being alone again—though illogical at best—forced Peter’s eyes up to meet Tony’s, and he was slightly taken aback when he saw that he had been...crying?

“Tony, are you okay?” Peter’s voice came out rough with sleep. “Were you crying?”

The man hesitated, already beginning to shake his head, but then he stopped. “I--yes.” It was something he probably wouldn’t have admitted to before Peter’s little breakdown a few days earlier. He looked conflicted for a moment, before scrubbing a hand down his face and taking in a deep breath. “I’m okay, kid.”

Peter nodded, still watching him and taking in this new side of his mentor. Only a few months ago, Tony would have brushed off the question, or better yet, would not have even shown Peter his face when his eyes were red in such a way. 

“What time do we need to leave?” Peter asked. Though he did wish to delve deeper and maybe even push for more answers while Tony was being so honest, the funeral still held occupancy in his mind. And, for the moment, he wanted to stay hidden away in bed for as long as he possibly could. 

“Few hours.” Tony gave Peter’s ankle a few pats of reassurance. “We have time.”

Peter nodded. While the air in the room was comfortable, Peter found it difficult to look Tony in the eyes for longer than a few seconds, instead choosing to watch his mentor’s knee. Tony didn’t make a move to get up until Peter did. 

“You ready to do this?” He asked as Peter shoved the blankets back almost twenty minutes later. 

Peter shrugged. “Don’t really have a choice, do I? You can’t just _not_ bury the person who was your last living relative.”

The words were heavy, but they both knew they were true. 

“I guess you’re right.”

*****

Peter was quiet on the drive over. He sat against the window, allowing Pepper to hold his hand and listening to the two of them talk in hushed voices, though for the life of him he could not say what the topic was. It wasn’t a long drive, per se, only about 40 minutes, but Peter found that he could barely sit still. Normally, he’d be on his phone, but he had allowed his own moodiness to take over that morning. 

“_Underoos, you forgot your phone.”_

_ “Yeah, who’s gonna call me?”_

It wasn’t a comeback he was proud of, but he figured he was allowed at least a little bit of self-deprecation in light of the circumstances. 

The funeral guest list would consist mostly of strangers. Besides the obligatory Tony, Pepper, and Happy combo, Ned, MJ, and a few friends from school, the rest of the congregation would be strangers. May’s coworkers who Peter never got to meet. Church friends. Maybe a neighbor or two. 

It was bleak. 

Peter fought back a shiver as he imagined the crowds of strangers stopping to tell him what a wonderful person May was. As if he didn’t know. 

Pepper squeezed his hand in her’s and he glanced up to find a kind smile directed his way. “Hey, sweetie.” She said softly. 

Grateful for her by his side, Peter tried for a smile and leaned his head against her shoulder instead of the cold window. Somewhere above his head, Tony and Pepper’s conversation stalled and Peter glanced over to Tony on the other side of Pepper as subtly as he could. He watched, silently, as Tony reached over and held Pepper’s other hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. 

The conversation began again and Peter shut his eyes for the rest of the ride. 

*****

Peter was quiet.

Tony was concerned. He (very obviously) watched the kid as he leaned on Pepper’s shoulder, sure that he was awake, but quite unwilling to look away. 

The mood was to be expected; Tony knew that there was no such thing as “the correct way” to deal with funerals, especially one for someone so close to you, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried. 

There had been a complete shift since Peter had gone to bed the night before. It was like he was purposefully not thinking about the day of the funeral and it was only due to the fact that there was no way to get around it now that he was dealing with it. 

Tony leaned his chin on his hand, still peeking around Pepper at where Peter sat curled against her side. The position of trust made Tony happy, but the deep furrow in Peter’s brows seemed to squeeze his already frail heart tight. 

Pepper noticed his stare and wrapped an arm around Peter, pressing a kiss to his hair and looking up at Tony in a way that said “does that make you feel better?”.

It did. 

When they pulled up to the church, no one made a move to get out of the car. A deepening in Peter’s frown showed that he knew that they had arrived, but his eyes stayed shut. 

From the front, Happy glanced at the three of them with a question, but Tony could only offer him a helpless shrug. 

“Pete?”

At the sound of his name, Peter sat up straight, not even meeting their eyes before his hand was on the door and he was out of the car. Tony and Pepper scrambled after him. 

The church was small, and the crowd outside, smaller. It wasn’t often that Tony found himself in a church. Though not showing up for mass with his parents had been a way of rebelling, there were precious few times he had gone back on his own volition. Pepper was much the same, so it had been a few years since Tony had even stopped to look at one. 

Upon seeing Peter, two kids about his age ran towards them, immediately engulfing the kid in hugs. Judging from the genuine affection between the boy and Peter and the shrewd look the tall girl gave to him, Tony assumed they were the famed Ned and MJ. He offered a smile, but stayed back with Pepper, so as not to intrude. 

“This is his family,” Pepper said softly, also watching the three friends. “Us and them. We’re all he’s got.”

Tony nodded, thinking back to that morning. 

“_Yeah, who’s gonna call me?”_

He dropped a hand in his pocket, pulling out Peter’s phone and showing it to Pepper. He’d grabbed it before they left, planning to hold into it until the kid inevitably regretted not bringing something to fidget with. 

“That’s a damned old phone,” Pepper whispered, nearly causing Tony to crack a smile. 

“I need to get him a new one.”

For a few minutes, the group lingered on the steps of the church, the quiet organ music seeping out through the ancient stone as the three kids exchanged quiet words. Tony held Pepper’s hand tight until his watch told him it was time to go inside. Hesitantly, Tony approached the teenagers and put a careful hand on Peter’s back. 

“You ready to go in?”

Peter looked up at him, then at the church. The crowd had gone inside, leaving only the group of them. 

“Peter?”

“Yeah?” It was the first word he’d spoken since they’d left the tower. 

“You ready?” 

Peter nodded. He looked up at Tony, then to Pepper. He nodded again. 

Then he took off running down the street. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this week has felt a million years long by dudes. we got ANXIETY we got DYPHORIA (which is a bitch oh my god???) we got like NO SLEEP and this REALLY cute girl is all the way in Utah hot damn 
> 
> Hopefully it hasn't been bad for y'all! If it was, talk to me goose!! Or even if it wasn't ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ let's chat!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOLKS!!! SORRY IT'S BEEN 2 DAMN WEEKS!!!! 
> 
> I spent 5 days with the most BEAUTIFUL girl in the world, forgot my computer charger at her place, couldn't use my computer from Tuesday until today, it's been a MESS. 
> 
> Life's better, I'm coming out to more people, I'm writing handwritten letters, my record player is fixed--we're doing better. Thank you SO MUCH to those of you who asked about my admittedly rough week. I appreciate each and every one of you my goodness. 
> 
> Anyway, here's some drama.

Peter didn’t know how long he’d been running. 

He didn’t know _why_ he was running. 

As he’d stood with Ned’s arm around his shoulder and MJ’s hand grasped firmly in his own, he’d felt sure. Well, not _sure_, per se, but he had definitely been sure that he could handle the funeral. 

It wasn’t until Tony had asked him if he was ready to go in that Peter realized that he very much was _not_ ready. Surrounded by the only people he really had left, Peter suddenly couldn’t stand to bury May. 

The thought of seeing her, closed coffin or not, was enough to make him panic and that panic (unfortunately, for nearly every party involved) had manifested itself into a fight or flight instinct that fight had immediately lost. 

His shoes pounded against the sidewalk, punching hard against the earth and the sound brought some semblance of a ground to Peter. He listened to the pounding rhythm and allowed his breathing to sync up. 

Oddly, his head was clear. There was no chorus of voices and doubts plaguing him down. He knew that he was running away from May’s funeral. He knew the longer he ran, the further away from the situation he’d be, though he knew he’d never truly escape it. 

He knew that he was probably scaring the shit out of Ned and MJ, not to mention Pepper and Tony. 

Even the guilt that washed over him with that thought wasn’t enough to make him turn around or even slow down. 

Desperately, Peter wished he could get lost. To run until he couldn’t be found, until he couldn’t go back, but the church was in Queens and Peter knew Queens better than the back of his hand. 

Every street he turned down in a weak attempt to get lost was familiar. He ran past shops he’d saved from robberies, past a park he’d helped a lost kid at, past the neighborhood he’d known for his entire life. There was no getting lost at home. 

Despite the adrenaline rush and his enhanced metabolism, Peter quickly found himself exhausted. Dressed in his funeral attire with his suit all the way back at the tower, he was trapped on foot, but he managed to find an inconspicuous enough building to climb, desperate to take a step back. 

Peter breathed deep when he made it to the roof, his pounding heart acting like he was still running. The city winked in the sunlight, playful and exciting, and very much the opposite of how Peter felt. With a deep sigh, he ran a hand over his face. 

God, he just wanted to be back in bed. 

He dropped himself down on the edge of the roof, close enough to see down if he leaned but not so close that passersby would think he was about to jump. He loosened the tie that Tony had loaned him, resisting the urge to drop it over the edge of the building. It wasn’t his to toss around and lose in the streets of Queens. 

The tie only served as a guilty reminder, though, of how much Peter really was indebted to Tony. He had to have cost him an insurmountable amount of money, just by feeding and clothing him. Not to mention the expenses of his room at the tower and the suit he had yet to repay Tony for. 

The sun was hot and it baked the concrete around Peter, but he didn’t leave. He leaned back on his elbows, the jagged surface of the roof cutting into his skin like tiny teeth as he tilted his head back to face the sky. In his dollar store sunflower pose, Peter shut his eyes and faced the sun, allowing the late afternoon warmth surround him like a blanket. 

He should not have run away from the funeral. He knew that. He hadn’t even bothered to glance back, not even when he heard Tony’s surprised yell of “_kid!_” as he had taken off down the street. No doubt Tony was looking for him, but Peter didn’t bother to make it more clear where he was. 

A quick pat of his pockets and Peter remembered leaving his phone at the tower that morning, though it was with indifference. If Tony really wanted to find him, he’d find a way. He probably had trackers on his shoes or something overprotective like that. What had been annoying at first only made Peter relax now, the knowledge that Tony would come and find him soon easing the tension around his shoulders some. 

Until Tony found him, though, and until he would be forced to have a most likely embarrassing conversation about the day’s events, Peter was left to his own devices. 

What could he do? 

Where could he go?

The image of his and May’s apartment appeared in his mind, beautiful and mismatched and messy and cramped and warm. He needed to take a nap on the couch. He needed May to make him some soup and sit beside him as they watched old movies. He needed her to comb a hand through his hair, tugging out the knots until he was just barely awake, basking in the comfort of home 

He needed to go home. 

Scrambling down the building took little to no effort and it was only a few blocks later that he found himself before a familiar, run-down apartment building. 

He patted his pockets desperately for a key, despite knowing that he had none. Fire escape it was, then. 

Peter quietly muttered a thanks to a host of deities that the fire escape window hadn’t been locked and he managed to shove it open with little strength. 

By then, the need to just be among comfort was near overwhelming, and a small part of Peter—a small, hopeful part—had begun to expect May to be there in the kitchen, waiting for him. 

Excitement built, despite his better judgment. He could practically smell the burned food, almost hear the quiet Italian music playing over the cassette player that was older than he was. He would climb through the window and May would make him dance with her, and they would sway and sing along until the food was so far gone it wasn’t even edible. 

Hope sprang into his eyes—or were those tears? It didn’t matter. He was home. He was _home_. 

“May—“ his voice came out strangled as he clamored his way through the window. “May, I’m home!” 

Silence greeted him. 

The apartment was empty, devoid of furniture, or pictures, of burnt food and music. There wasn’t a single sign that he had lived there, that _anyone_ had lived there. 

Peter stood amid the silence, his hands that had almost begun to shake with excitement now dropped at his sides, limp. A weight settled over him, something heavy and unshakable, and he dropped to the floor. His knees crashed against the wood in a way that would inevitably bruise, but he barely felt it. 

The late afternoon sun poured in through the window in a way that he had once loved. It soaked the apartment in a warm light, bouncing off the various knick-knacks that May shoved on any available space. It was welcoming and a pleasant sign-off for the day. 

Now, Peter all Peter felt was cold as it surrounded him. The light entering the room was a stranger. The apartment was a stranger. 

Peter was a stranger. 

This wasn’t his house. 

His house….his _home_…..

Who was Peter Parker without a home? Without a family? 

He was adrift in a city that he loved, feeling for all the world as singular as one could. 

Unable to even summon the idea of getting up again, Peter sank further into the floor, curling up around his knees so that his forehead pressed against the familiar flooring. He felt small in the apartment, something leftover and forgotten from a life that was long gone. Nothing more than a stray hair tie or an inkless pen, left behind and forgotten. 

Tears made their way down his cheeks, silent, and they dropped to the floor below his face. He cried, though his mind was clear. He watched as the tears dropped down to the dusty floor below, leaving tiny spots behind. He marveled at them, but soon became preoccupied with how few there were. 

May deserved more tears. May deserved his sobs and screams and heart wrenching pain. All he had to give her were a few meager tears, and even as he began trying to force himself to sob, urging more tears out, his mind stayed clear. 

He knew that forcing grief was pointless and cheap and the few more tears he was able to muster felt fake. 

God. 

He couldn’t even cry right. 

A knock sounded at the door. 

That couldn’t be right. No one lived there anymore. 

The knock came again. Peter sat up, still quiet, but running his sleeve over his eyes in an attempt to clean his face. If it was CPS, he’d run. He’d run back to Tony and Tony could hide him. 

“Peter?”

Oh. It was Mike. 

“Peter? Is that you?” The knock came again. “I thought I heard….are you okay?”

Peter didn’t move. He didn’t want to face Mike, not at that moment, at least, but he _knew_ Mike. They had been neighbors for years. Peter had definitely cried in front of him before, though most likely when he’d tripped on a stair when he was six or something. 

He had been friends with May and Ben. He had been friends with Peter. 

It took effort, but Peter finally pushed himself up. His knees were dusty and the suit was ruined. Sorry, Mr. Stark. 

“Listen, I dunno if you’re actually Peter, but—“

Peter swung the door open and Mike stepped back. 

“Oh.” He looked shocked to see Peter, though that was to be expected. “Hey, Little Parker.”

“Hey.” Peter played off the obvious tears. “What’s up?”

Mike laughed a little, something short and unfunny. “I was just about to make tea.” He peeked around Peter’s shoulder at the empty apartment. “No Mr. Stark?”

Peter flushed and shook his head. No, no Mr. Stark.

Mike nodded, “You want some tea? You look like you could use some comfort.”

“I….” Peter glanced back at the empty apartment. Something felt off about the situation, but he chalked it up to having just cried in the empty shell of his childhood home. “That sounds good. Thank you.”

“No problem, Little Parker.” Mike clapped him on the shoulder. 

With one last glance at the apartment, Peter followed him out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and commenting!! Even when I didn't update twice in a row!! 
> 
> Again, DON'T STOP MOVING! We're in chaos here, what with the fireworks and the actual psychological warfare. Fuck cops. All of them. Holy shit, people are dying. Keep donating, keep protesting, keep spreading the word!!! this is historical and if we do nothing, nothing will change!! fuckin abolish the police and the prison system already. 
> 
> If anyone is fired up or needs to vent or anything, please feel free to drop by my Tumblr (@attemptingauthor) or twitter (@liveonhoneycomb) we can chat and plan ways to fuck over the police force and the government. 
> 
> Stay safe kiddos!!!!!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY FOLKS i'm back, is anyone still here???? enjoy!

Two days. 

Forty-eight hours. 

Two-thousand eight hundred and eighty minutes. 

One hundred and seventy-two thousand eight hundred seconds. 

And counting. 

Tony paced back and forth in the lab, projected screens scrolling through city surveillance, traffic cameras—anything that might give them a clue as to where Peter was—taking up the rest of the space. 

Despite being the only one in the room, the lab seemed full, busy as Friday worked to find the kid. 

Tony was exhausted. He had yet to sleep since Peter had run away from the funeral, unable to tear his eyes from the screens out of fear that he’d miss a glimpse of him. 

Why had Peter run? He had been nervous, sure, but to completely disappear was very unlike the kid. Unfortunately, the more Tony dwelled on the thought, the more he realized that he didn’t _really_ know what was like or unlike Peter, habit wise. Though close, they had only lived together for so long and this was indeed the first (and hopefully, god _hopefully,_ the last) hugely traumatic event that they had weathered together. Tony had no idea how Peter had reacted when his parents had died or when Ben had died. Neither Peter nor May had offered any reflections on those days and Tony sure as hell wasn’t going to ask. 

Which left him helpless. 

It left him scared. 

As he paced back and forth in front of the screens, he pressed a hand hard against his chest out of habit and felt the pounding of his own heart. God, this kid was going to kill him. 

He felt sick at that thought, quickly sending out into the universe the idea that he’d much rather die himself than see Peter hurt. 

“Boss?”

“Talk to me, baby, please tell me you found him.” If he’d been less distracted, Tony would have winced at how desperate he sounded after not speaking for what felt like hours. 

“I have been unable to locate Peter.” Tony felt his heart drop. “The last footage available I have already shown you, the drone footage of Peter on the roof.”

“Could you show me it again?” 

Friday’s screen lit up with the few seconds of footage that someone had managed to capture with a passing drone, replaying the video over and over again. 

Peter sat on the edge of the building, face turned to the sun, but where Tony expected a smile was an emotionless expression. It hurt to see, even after having analyzed the video for any sign of where he had gone. His chest squeezed tight as he watched the kid—_his _kid—so alone and hurting. 

He had cursed himself a million times over for not having anything with which to track Peter with. His phone, which Tony currently had on his desk like it would offer more clues. Admittedly, there was a small tracking device in Peter’s shoes, but that was for emergencies only and had been installed with an okay from May. Unfortunately, it had been Tony who had reminded Peter to wear the nicer shoes to go with his funeral suit, successfully making Peter that much more difficult to find. 

Two days. 

Tony felt sick. 

Any number of things could have happened to the kid by now, horrors beyond even Tony’s imagination. 

“Tony.” Pepper shoved the door to the lab open with her shoulder, eyes on her tablet with Rhodey and Happy trailing behind her. “Anything?”

Tony shook his head, mutely. 

Pepper’s lips pressed into a thin line. She was far more put together than Tony was on the outside, but he knew that she had to be panicking just as much as he was. “I have people looking for him, though they are just detectives who’ve signed NDAs.”

“I have people out as well.” Happy added, “Pulled some strings, cashed in a few favors.”

“Tones, I’m heading out for another patrol,” Rhodey jumped in, “But I don’t think you should come with me.”

“What?” Tony gently pushed the video of Peter to the side to better see his friend, outrage boiling over. “No. I’m coming. Give me a sec, I’ll be right behind you.”

“Tony, no.” Pepper crossed the room and shoved him hard on the shoulder, causing Tony to trip backward and land on the couch. “You haven’t slept in two days, you’re not going to do Peter any good if you can’t fly without crashing into something. You need to sleep.”

“I need to find my kid.” Tony bit back, though he was scared to realize exactly how heavy his bones felt as he sat down for the first time in probably a day. 

“We will,” Rhodey argued, placing his own hand against Tony’s shoulder and successfully keeping him sitting down. “I will. Happy and Pepper will. You need to sleep.”

“You’re not going to find him by yourselves.” Tony knew he was being mean; they were perfectly capable and trained well enough that he would normally trust them with the task. He also knew that he absolutely _needed_ more manpower to find Peter. “I’m going to call a meeting.”

“Hold on.” There was fire in Pepper’s eyes and Tony remembered how protective she had become of Peter, especially against the rogues. “Are you sure you can trust them?”

“I’m not comfortable with them anywhere near Peter.” It was nice to see Happy defending Peter. Tony knew they were friends before, but it warmed his heart whenever he was reminded of it. “I agree with Pepper, this is not a good idea.”

“No,” Tony agreed and clamored his way off the couch, none too gracefully. “It’s not, but we need help.”

*****

“He ran away?” Clint was skeptical. “I thought you guys were best buddies.”

Something tightened in Tony’s chest. “He’s in danger. Or maybe he’s just lost and scared.” He rubbed a hand down his face, knowing full well that he looked at least partially insane. “I don’t care.”

The group had assembled surprisingly fast. Tony sent a mass message via Friday calling a meeting about something pertaining to Peter and within minutes, the team was together. For the first time since they had split, they were focused on something other than betrayal and secrets. 

“Do you have any idea where he might be?” Steve had made sure to position himself the furthest away from Tony and the rest of the group, which was a mercy that neither would mention. To his credit, though, he did look genuinely concerned. 

It seemed that the rest of the team had been at least partially unaware as to how bad things had gotten between them. According to Rhodey, Steve had told them his side of the story, keeping in all the gory and shameful details. There was an obvious rift between Steve and the rest of the team now, but Tony couldn’t help but add an ounce of respect to his image of Steve. While he was sure that the whole truth had yet to be spoken, it was reassuring that Steve had taken the brunt of the team’s scorn by telling as much of the truth as he could. 

“I…” Tony wished he had a clue as to where Peter was. “No. I don’t have anything. We have some footage of him, but no idea where he could have gone after that.”

“He’s fast,” Natasha spoke up. “Kid can probably be on the other side of the state by now.”

Pepper shook her head. She had yet to leave Tony’s side, fiercely ready to fight each and every one of the rogues if a single bad word was spoken about Tony or Peter. Her eyes rarely strayed from Steve. Tony reached down and squeezed her hand as a silent thank you. “Peter knows New York, namely Queens. He’s never traveled out of state and I doubt he’s looking to travel in light of the circumstances.” She was all business, firm and commanding. “Our best bet is Queens or the area around it.”

“While we’ve patrolled and searched the area already,” Rhodey said, “but we can leave no stone unturned. We need more eyes and more manpower.”

“Which is where we come in.” Sam nodded. “Okay.”

The rest of the group nodded and Tony was taken aback for a moment. His silence was telling. 

“We’re gonna help you find him,” Clint said, his mood far more subdued than usual. He was serious and it was obvious. “Your kid’s in trouble. I know you’d do the same for mine.”

“We still have your back, Tony,” Natasha spoke up. “Things are different, sure, but Peter’s a part of the family, no matter how broken it is right now.”

Tony had spent weeks, _months _after the so-called “civil war”,convincing himself that he had lost his family. The bonds they had built over literal years seemed to have snapped within a few days and while he hated to admit it, it had been heartbreaking. 

Though things were in no way close to being fixed, the flickering notion that they could still mend their wounds was something that he hadn’t expected to hear, especially from Nat.

“Thank you.”

The words didn’t even begin to cover the overwhelming gratitude that welled up, but for now, they’d do. Pepper squeezed Tony’s hand, and it was that—oddly enough—that alerted him to the tears that had begun to fall. 

Unsure if they were due to thankfulness or fear or heartbreak or love, Tony didn’t bother trying to hide them. 

He stood laid bare in front of his family, allowing them to truly see the extent of his heart, and cried. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these past few weeks have been an absolute mess of both good and bad, but we're getting through it!! Gender is a mess and I am gay lmao 
> 
> please leave a comment if you're still here!! I still have many a chapter planned, so this fic isn't over yet!! I hope you've been having good days and have good days coming up! :)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy guys, it's been a long time, hasn't it? are you still there? still surviving? 
> 
> here's a sad chapter for you, my boy's really going through it, huh?
> 
> my motivation has dropped down so so low recently and i haven't been able to get a whole lot done. not sure what it is really. I'm just lying on my bed listening to chet baker and watching tik toks these days. :/ oof

It was no surprise that Peter had been through traumatic experiences before. 

Bullet wounds, light stabbings, that one _serious_ stabbing, being beat all to hell by many an attacker—and that didn’t even begin to cover emotional trauma. 

It came with the territory, Peter had assumed. One should expect some less than stellar experiences when one signed up to be a full-time vigilante in the city of New York. 

Still, with all that he’d suffered and experienced, this, Peter decided, must be the worst of it. 

He was in pain and it was a level of pain that he had only experienced a few times before. The kind of pain that comes with an immense loss, the heart-crushing, heavy, unshakable _weight_ that came with “I’m Alone”. 

And he was alone, wasn’t he? Apart from Mike, of course. 

Peter was tied harshly to a dining room chair—one he’d no doubt sat in before during his childhood while visiting his neighbor. His legs from the ankle all the way up to his knee were lashed to the chair legs so that he couldn’t even shift his position if he got uncomfortable. His arms, roughly yanked behind his back and secured behind the chair, had long since fallen asleep and only vaguely ached now. His stomach growled, emptiness amplified by his metabolism, with no hope of food in sight. 

And his head. It ached something fierce, his jaw smarting from where Mike had shoved a (probably not clean) rag between his teeth and something behind his eyes pounded with an intensity that never seemed to cease. A thick, dark pillowcase had made its way over his head, blocking out any sense of light. 

Peter was in pain. He was miserable. All he wanted was _Tony, Tony, Tony_, but it felt like months since he’d seen him last. 

How long had it been since the funeral? Since Peter had willingly left behind the only family that he had left to run right into the clutches of his (now obviously weird) neighbor? 

All sense of time seemed to have faded away, and all Peter knew was hunger and pain and missing his family. 

“You awake?” What had once been a familiar voice now made Peter’s stomach churn with dread. Mike's footsteps approached and Peter stilled, hoping in vain to still appear asleep. “Yeah, you’re awake, stop trying to lie.” The voice was directly over Peter’s head. He hated feeling so trapped. 

All attempts to yell obscenities and protests were lost in the rag, only a muffled groan making its way out of his mouth. 

Mike laughed. “Thought so. Back into it, then, yeah?”

The dread in Peter’s stomach grew as he heard Mike pick up a remote and stab at a button— 

—Ringing filled Peter’s ears. A hellish mix of screeching, pounding, _everything,_ played loud over a speaker system, effectively scrambling Peter’s senses. He shut his eyes against the attack, as though it would help, and braced himself for what he knew was next. 

Mike grabbed the back of the chair, tipping Peter dangerously backward in a way that left him at Mike’s complete mercy. Dragged around the house with the godawful soundtrack, Peter had no idea where he was. It was confusing and overwhelming and Peter couldn’t even lift a hand to wipe away his tears. 

A door shut and suddenly Peter was alone again, though he didn’t know where he was and the noise had somehow followed him. 

Slumping in the chair as much as was allowed, Peter’s chin dropped almost to his chest. God. He was exhausted and terrified and so incredibly sad. 

Sad seemed like too small a word to describe the emotion, but it was the best he could do. 

More than anything, he wanted to be back on the Stark’s couch, Pepper and Tony on either side of him as they rubbed his back and scratched his head. He just wanted to exist near them again, maybe be held tight one last time. 

The longer he was trapped with Mike, though, the more he ventured to think about Tony and Pepper giving up on him. 

They wouldn’t do that, right? 

They had said they cared about him. They had spent so much time and effort just to keep Peter happy, had lost so many nights of sleep due to Peter’s terrible sleeping habits—_surely_ they were willing to go a little extra distance to get him back home safe?

He shivered, despite not being cold. 

Tony would come for him. Pepper would want him back. Even Rhodey and Happy had to miss him by now, right? 

Right?

How long had it been since he’d stupidly accepted that mug of tea? How long since he’d noticed too late the feeling of _danger danger danger_ and the careful watchfulness in Mike’s eye? If only he’d

There was a knock at the door. 

Peter froze. 

The godawful sounds abruptly shut off and Peter was left in helpless silence, exhaustion allowing little more than a small groan through the rag. Mike’s footsteps approached and Peter braced himself, unsure what to expect. 

“You stay quiet, you hear me?” god, how had he ever associated that voice with familiarity and kindness? “One sound outta you and it’s over. Got it? I got no problem ending this whole thing here and now.”

Peter stayed frozen still, his heartbeat pounding. He was a superhero, goddamnit, he should be able to handle a non-enhanced, middle-aged man. Instead, he was left a cowering mess, nodding desperately when Mike’s threat of, “_got it?”_ made its way through the pillowcase. 

The footsteps moved away and Peter strained to hear as Mike went to answer the door. After so long hearing nothing but Mike’s voice and that overwhelming cacophony of sounds, Peter had to fight to listen around the high pitched ringing that seemed to live between his ears these days. 

“Oh, hello. What can I do for you?” Mike was asking a question. 

The person at the door’s voice was quiet, and Peter couldn’t make out words at first. It was a man, though he sounded like he could barely speak above a whisper. 

“Sorry, no,” Mike answered, and Peter leaned in his chair to hear what the other man said in response. “Not around here.”

“Are….sure?” 

That voice. 

Tony. 

Desperate hope jolted through Peter’s body; Tony was at the door! Tony was there to rescue him!

“Yeah, sorry man.” Mike sounded apologetic. “I’ll let you know, though.”

Tony sighed and tears ran freely down Peter’s cheeks. He knew he should yell as best he could. He needed to alert Tony that he was there so Tony could swoop in and rescue him. But the fear of Mike’s ruthless threat took dominance over Peter’s mind and the thought of what the man could do to him kept him silent, just listening. 

“….not like him,” Tony said, and oh god, he sounded defeated. He sounded old. “I just don’t know where…”

_Here! _Peter wanted to yell, _I’m here! Come find me!_

But he stayed silent, only leaning further to hear more of his mentor’s voice. 

“Yeah, definitely sounds out of character. I’m sure he’ll turn up, though.”

Peter leaned and leaned—and tipped over, the carpet rushing up to meet him as he landed roughly. 

“….was that?”

“Cat.” Mike covered up. “I can’t have anything nice in this house.” He laughed and Peter sobbed silently into the carpet. 

“Tony.” He tried to whisper, the words struggling to get past the rag. “Tony, Tony, Tony.”

He listened, crushed, as Tony said his goodbyes and Mike promised to keep an eye out for Peter. 

He listened as the door shut. 

He listened as the footsteps returned, no doubt ready to punish him for almost giving them away. 

And if he listened hard enough, he swore he could almost hear Tony’s own steps as he walked further and further away from the apartment and Peter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life is weird folks.   
1\. my lovely adorable kind girlfriend is moving across the country for school and I'm so happy for her but boy howdy my heart is hurting.   
2\. gender is wack and it costs so much to get to where you want to be  
3\. school starts up this month and I'm going to be doing 6 classes and hopefully adding a minor (+2 classes per semester)   
4\. I'm just TIRED folks 
> 
> sorry for this sad lil life update lol i promise I'm all good! Just, ya know. the worlds in a weird place and I think we all kind of are as well. 
> 
> Let me know if you're still reading, I'd love to hear from you! Tell me how you've been doing!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo look at me, updating within a week with a long chapter!!

Steve Rogers had always hated it when people called him a hero. 

There were the thankful citizens, the proud soldiers—people who had seen him in action and who had born witness to some great feat of strength. They praised the ground he walked on; weeping mothers kissed his hands in gratitude, paired with the desperate hug of someone just saved from a collapsing building. 

It was when they whispered that _damn_ word— “hero”— that Steve felt something inside him shrivel up and wring itself out with guilt. 

He wasn’t a hero. He had failed, oftentimes as much as he succeeded, and the title applied to him after a successful mission only served as a bitter reminder to the ones he had failed. 

He didn’t feel like a hero. He didn’t _want_ to feel like a hero. 

But the look in Tony Stark’s eyes when he had begged them (_them_! Steve!) to help find his son was enough to make him want to wear the title if it meant seeing his old friend reunited with his family. 

It had taken under an hour for the whole team to gear up and set out to scour the city for a certain teenager who most definitely hated all of their guts. Tony had insisted on them calling him the moment one of them found Peter to reassure the kid that they were indeed working together. Steve suspected it was for their sake more than Peter’s, as even he had been taken aback by the power the kid possessed. 

So now, wandering the streets of Queens as Tony commanded, Captain America went door to door for the fourth exhausting day in a row. 

_The last time I did this, _He thought wryly, _was when I canvassed pamphlets for the war._

For hours, there was no luck, as there hadn’t been any yet. He took countless selfies, signed a million autographs, even held a woman’s baby as she searched her apartment for a camera for a picture of the two of them. Cats nearly escaped, cars stopped in green lights; he was beginning to think he was being nothing more than a bother to the neighborhood the more he wandered around. 

Recognizing Peter’s address (that Tony had written on an actual pieces of paper and shoved into each of their hands), Steve made a beeline for the building, sneaking in as best he could behind a couple on their way out. Inside, he breathed out a breath of relief. 

Tony had done a sweep of the building on the first day of searching, talking to tenants, and checking every single corner in Peter’s old apartment, but it was worth another look around. 

The apartment building was old; the elevator boasted an “out of order” sign that looked like it hadn’t moved in years and the paint was chipped in a way that implied that it was the original coat. Steve, despite spending the last few years enjoying only the newest and best architecture available, felt right at home. 

As he climbed the stairs to the second level after a door to door sweep, Steve found himself wondering about Peter Parker. The kid came from very close to nothing, just as he had, but had somehow found himself a family in the Stark-Potts household. For a moment, Steve allowed himself the daydream of a family dynamic like theirs during his own childhood. Would he have enlisted so young? Would he have ever become the superhero he was now known to be?

“Focus on Peter.” His own words shook him, frowning and glancing around to make sure no one had heard him. The last thing he needed was for someone to start thinking Captain America had lost his marbles. 

The next door was opened after a few moments of waiting to a particularly disheveled looking man. The bags around his eyes were dark and he was unshaven by a few days, his hair greasy and limp. 

“Oh. Hello.” Steve did his best not to look too taken aback. 

“Captain America.” The man grunted out, though there was something in his eyes that looked like distrust. “Came for a cup of sugar or what? I’m busy.”

“I’m sure you are.” Steve plastered a smile to his face. “I’m here to ask about a missing person, perhaps you’ve seen him around.”

Something flickered across the man’s features before they closed off again. Steve narrowed his eyes. “Haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary.” The man began to shut the door. “Good luck, though—“

“Sir.” Steve placed a hand on the door, barely bracing against it at all but effectively stopping it from shutting with almost no effort. “Would you mind if I asked a few more questions? It’s just that this person is very important to us and it’s tearing his father apart that he’s not home.”

The man hesitated, clearly not thrilled at the idea of more questions, but a glance up and down Steve’s physique was enough to have him nodding. “Tell you what”—his voice squeaked and he cleared his throat—“there’s a great little coffee place just downstairs, half a block over. Why don’t we meet there—“

“We can just talk here.” Steve smiled, unnerved by how desperately the man wanted him to leave. He had to be hiding something, right? “It’ll only take a moment. Can I come in?”

“It’s a mess.”

“I don’t mind.”

“There’s this smell that the landlord hasn’t fixed yet, it’s almost intolerable—“

“I’m sure I can handle it.”

The man wrung his hands, seemingly realizing that he was only appearing more suspicious. “Come on in, then.”

The apartment was a mess, but still definitely livable. The man leading him inside was jumpy as they entered the kitchen, his shoulders hunched and his eyes darting around the room like he was going to be attacked at any moment. 

“I’m Steve.” The moment needed words. 

“Mike.” The man answered weakly. “Do you want tea? Or coffee? I can grind the beans right here—“ He began shoveling coffee beans none too quietly into the grinder before Steve held up a hand. 

“I’m quite alright. “

“I can turn on the radio, give us a little background noise?”

“That’s okay. Why don’t you and I take a seat?” 

The kitchen chairs creaked when they sat. 

The man fidgeted with his hands under the table. “The apartment’s been making weird noises lately.” He shrugged and laughed. “Weird sounds all the time. I gotta have that looked at.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Mike had answers to Steve’s questions, though they were unhelpful. No, he hadn’t seen Peter. Yes, he knew the family. No, he hadn’t known he was missing until Tony had shown up at his door a few days earlier. 

With each question answered, Steve’s shoulders fell slightly more. The man—though fidgety as always— offered no explanations as to where Peter might be. It was only when he stood to leave that things took a turn. 

The handshake that Mike was relieved to give was abruptly cut off as a sound came from the back room, causing the both of them to freeze. 

“What was that?” 

“The apartments been making noises, remember?” Mike laughed, taking his hand back from Steve and starting towards the door. “Anyway, thanks for—“

The sound came again, like something banging against the wall. 

Steve turned to the suspicious man. “Are you sure that’s nothing?”

The noise came again and Steve started towards it. 

“Wait, hold on—“ Mike followed after him, hands flapping around like he wanted to physically stop Steve but was sure that he would be unable to. “It’s probably a cat or something—“

“Hello?” 

The apartment was more of a mess the further back he went. Toppled furniture, loose zip-ties, and a carpet that looked like it hadn’t been vacuumed in years. 

“Hello?”

Steve stood still in the middle of the living room, listening. 

“Listen, I think you should go—“

“Shut up for a second.” He held up a hand to Mike, dread building in his stomach. If Peter was there, as in there in that _damn_ apartment, and Tony had missed him? It would break the man. “Peter?”

The sound came again, though weaker, from a closet on the far side of the room. Steve turned to face Mike, holding himself in a way he _knew_ was intimidating. “Don’t move a damn muscle, you hear me?”

The man’s eyes bugged, a look of guilt and fear taking over his features. 

Steve crossed the room and yanked the closet door open. 

*****

Peter’s head ached from where he had banged it against the wall. It was a way of getting someone’s attention and though it had worked, there was a trickle of something wet against the back of his head that he knew was blood and there was a powerful headache building behind his eyes. 

The ache in his head, though, was nothing compared to the blinding light that flooded his senses as the pillowcase was yanked off his head. 

Immediately, Peter scrambled back as best he could, squeezing his eyes shut against the brightness and forcing as many of his yells of fear out through the rag as he could. 

Overwhelmed as he had become, all he had been able to hear had been a man’s voice in the apartment. However, someone else’s voice meant _someone else_. 

“—ter? Peter!”

Peter shook his head, not daring to open his eyes to see the obviously large male presence directly in front of him. Oh god, oh god, oh god, Mike had called someone else in and Peter had helpfully shown them exactly where he was. He was going to finish him off once and for all—

The sound of a punch being thrown had Peter flinching and wrenching open his eyes, though. 

Mike— 

—On the floor, _bleeding_, as Captain Fucking America stood above him, rage in his eyes. 

Rage that had haunted Peter’s nightmares for months after that goddamn fight, now in a room with him when he was tied up and defenseless. 

Fear _surged_ and overwhelmed, and Peter fought and struggled like he hadn’t in days, his mind overtaken by some primal fight or flight instinct as terror flooded through his veins. 

Oh god, oh god, he was going to die by the hands of Captain America and he was never going to see Tony again. 

The chair tipped—

And again, _again_, he fell face forward into the carpet, putting himself in an even worse position as he couldn’t even _see_ his attacker now. 

Desperate yells and half-formed words fell out of his mouth, calling for Pepper and Tony and _May_, begging someone to help him as footsteps approached from behind. 

The chair was turned over, gently, and sat upright again, though Peter kept his eyes shut tight in order for the last thing he saw to not be his killer’s face. 

“Peter.” 

His own name made him shiver, and go still.His heart pounded with hatred and anger and fear. 

“Calm down kid, it’s okay, he’s not getting anywhere near you.”

Peter shook his head: _No, no, no. _Blind panic kept him from moving any further. 

“Hang on, let’s get you out of this chair.” The man’s voice was soft, quiet, and disarming. Nothing like the violent yells that Peter had associated him with in his nightmares. 

His legs were loose, then his arms, but they felt like they weighed a million pounds each. With almost all the energy he had left Peter swung his arm in what normally would have been a deadly punch, but his fist was caught with no effort by the man in front of him. The reality that he was helpless was enough to reduce him to tears, and it was with a shock that he heard his own voice, breaking around a sob as the rag was carefully pulled from his mouth. 

For the first time in four days, Peter was able to move, but was almost physically unable to do so, his limbs deadweight and unhelpful. 

“Shh, hold on kid, let me help you.”

Another swing was blocked. 

Then a halfhearted kick. 

Then he was being hoisted to his feet, and Peter nearly collapsed, unthinkingly grabbing onto the captain’s shirt to stop his fall. 

“Alright, alright, hold on.” The man gave Peter his arm to cling to. “I gotta call your dad.”

_Tony._

Peter stood like a newborn fawn, shaking and trying not to cry, waiting for the man to change his mind about helping him. He gripped Captain America’s arm as a way to hold himself up, his eyes darting around the room for a different crutch until—

Mike. 

The man lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, his face bloodied and his wrists and ankles zip-tied together. Was he dead? It took all of Peter’s concentration to focus on the rise and fall of Mike’s chest, the relief that he hadn’t been murdered enough to send another shiver through him. 

“Tony?”

“Did you find him?”

_Tony. Tony, Tony, Tony._

“Yeah, I got him. I’m bringing him back with me right now.

“Is he hurt? Is he okay?” Tony’s voice rang out through the phone and Peter swung his gaze around to fixate on it. He must have been obvious in his desperation, as the phone was brought closer to him. 

“He’s okay.” Was the reply. “We’re okay, right Peter?”

Peter nodded because he _was_ okay. Tony was coming. 

“Yeah, we’re okay, Tony.” The captain said. 

“Let me talk to him.”

The phone was pushed a little closer to Peter’s face, and he brought a shaking hand up to hold it, nearly dropping it in the process of bringing it to his ear. 

“Pete? Baby, is that you?” 

Tears flowed, but words did not. _Tony. _Peter sniffed, trying to hold back tears.

“Peter?” 

There was nothing to say; It was like words simply stopped working and all Peter could do was grip the phone tight and hope that Tony would continue talking so he could keep hearing his voice. 

“Steve? What the hell’s wrong with my kid!” 

Clearly unsure, the man brought the phone back to himself. “He’s not talking. I’m sure he’s okay, but we’re going to head back to the tower right now, okay?”

“Keep me on the damn phone.” Came Tony’s reply, “Where are you? I’m heading over with Happy right now.”

So Peter stood and waited, shaking on his weak legs and holding tightly and fearfully to Captain America’s arm as Tony’s voice filled the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading babes! the reunion is coming up, i promise! i can't keep bullying you by keeping them apart forever. 
> 
> first off, oh my goodness, you guys are so sweet with your comments last week. do i deserve your kind words of encouragement???? who knows but i loved them anyway!!
> 
> for those concerned, I'm doing better and am looking forward to school starting this month. are yall excited or eh about school starting? for those going to school I mean. if you're not going to school, how hyped are you for fall, huh!?
> 
> the second part of this chapter was weird bc peter calls steve Captain America and god above i don't wanna keep writing that so it was hard to write for him, as you can tell lmfao 
> 
> I hope you guys are doing well and being safe and also ARE REGISTERED TO VOTE!!! REGISTER BABES!!!


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY FOLKS!!! NEW CHAPTER ON TIME!!

Tony Stark had never known a fear as great as when he climbed those damned apartment stairs, knowing that Steve and a helpless Peter Parker were only a few steps away. 

Tony himself had yet to be alone with Steve since their falling out, and having an injured, kidnapped Peter between them promised nothing good. 

His hands shook, his breath caught, and his heart felt like it had solidified and now weighed a hundred pounds in his chest. 

Standing in front of the neighbor’s door, Tony felt sick. He had been there. He had _missed_ Peter. God, the kid must be furious at him. 

His hand hesitated over the doorknob, wondering miserably for a moment if Peter would even want to continue _living _with Tony after a fuck up like this. Only a second passed before he reminded himself that his kid was inside that apartment with not only his kidnapper, but Steve as well. 

The door opened. 

Tony wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but the tableau before him was enough to have him stopping in his tracks. Steve stood warily on one end of the kitchen, a zip-tied man (Mike, Tony remembered) slumped defeated in the corner by his feet. Steve had a look of helplessness about him, as his eyes went back and forth between the man in the corner, Tony, and the doorway into the living room. He looked horribly awkward.

“Where is he.” 

Steve nodded towards the living room. “He won’t let me any closer. Tony, I—”

But Tony was gone, knocking a kitchen chair over in his hurry to get to the living room. 

_Peter._

The kid stood with his back pressed into the corner of the room, leaning heavily against the wall. He looked small. He looked scared and _mad_, his eyes not moving from where they pinned Steve against the kitchen counter, making sure not a single movement the man made went unnoticed. 

Tony’s heart seized as he took in the image of his kid; How could he have failed so horribly as a parent within the first months of being one? His throat worked around the kid’s name, barely managing to make a sound. 

“Peter.”

His kid’s eyes snapped to his at his name, huge and sad and _scared_. 

“Peter.”

“ ’ony—“ Peter scrambled to stand straighter, using the wall for support. “Tony—he’s here—he’s _here_.” His voice was scratchy, worn out, and his arms had deep red lines dug into them, most likely from where he had been restrained. “Be careful—“ he gasped, stumbling towards Tony with fear etched on his face.

Tony caught him in his arms and for a moment, everything went still except for the two of them. Tony’s heart skipped a beat, the relief that came with holding his kid in his arms again enough to jolt his entire system. His throat tightened and he swallowed dryly, fighting tears and full-body tremors. Peter felt downright skeletal in Tony’s arms, shaking and desperately trying to pull himself closer, though Tony noted that he had his eyes locked on Steve again over Tony’s shoulder. 

Oh. 

“Peter, baby, it’s okay, he’s—” Tony pushed a hand through Peter’s hair, freezing when his hand came away wet. Blood. “What happened here, bud?” He fought for a calm voice. 

Peter ignored the question, still looking over Tony’s shoulder. “He’s here, he’s here, Tony.”

Tony followed Peter’s gaze to see the helpless superhero cowering in the kitchen. “He’s with me, Pete, it’s okay. We were working together.”

Peter shook his head. “He hurt you.”

“I know he did.” Steve had the courtesy to look away, guilt etched in his face. Tony watched him for a moment. “I know he did, but it’s okay, right now. He helped me find you.”

Peter shivered, and Tony realized exactly how traumatizing the situation had to be for the kid. _His_ kid. 

“Let’s get you home, baby. Okay? Let’s go home.” 

Peter nodded, finally—_finally_—tearing his eyes away from Steve and burying his face in Tony’s chest. Tony hoped he couldn’t hear his heart break. He held tight to his son, tears not daring to fall as the moment of reunion felt too great. 

Glancing up over Peter’s head, Tony and Steve locked eyes. For the first time, Steve noticed a growing bruise on the man’s cheek, as well as a few noticeable nail scratches around his face and neck. 

So Peter had fought him off, most likely resulting in the way Steve had stayed carefully in the kitchen so as not to incite more anger and conflict. Had Steve fought back? 

A distrusting look up and down the man revealed nothing obvious, though the way he held himself showed nothing but concern and apprehension. 

Steve looked away first, focusing his attention on tapping the toe of his shoe against the unconscious man slumped at his feet. 

Peter squirmed closer to Tony, effectively dragging any thought away from Steve. “Dad.”

And holy hell, Tony stopped breathing. 

He stood, frozen in place, doing his very best to figure out whether or not he had imagined the small, quiet word. 

But then, again: “Dad.”

“Yes, baby?” He couldn’t think. 

“I want to go home.”

Tony nodded, trusting that Peter could feel him. Words failed. 

_Dad._

The single word filled him with a light that seemed to shine directly from his heart, something powerful and delicate and fragile and so, so strong. 

“Okay. Okay, let’s go home.” He whispered and Peter nodded like it had been Tony’s suggestion in the first place. 

It was only when they tried to actually leave the apartment that they ran into a problem. Peter could barely walk. Dehydrated, malnourished, and weak from the four days he had spend tied down, he could barely make a few steps without collapsing. Tony, though determined, was unable to carry him due to his godawful back and (of course) the very few hours of rest over the course of said four days. 

Which left Steve. 

Peter cried as Steve carefully picked him up to carry down to the car, a weak hand reaching for Tony and not letting go even as they descended the stairs. 

Happy had a look of utter horror on his face upon seeing Steve carrying a crying Peter to the car with Tony trailing miserably after them, his hand still held hostage. 

With Peter safely deposited in the back of the car, Steve backed up.

“I’m going to deal with that scumbag. Figure out his plan and toss him in a cell.” There were no details or any indication of what he planned to do with Mike, but Tony found that he didn’t care. He just nodded tiredly, watching as Steve went back upstairs. 

“Home, boss?”

“Please, Hap.”

Tony climbed into the backseat and almost immediately found himself with his arms full of Peter. Happy started the car and Tony threw one more glance at the apartment before they drove off, leaving Peter and Tony to cling to each other in the backseat, each quite unable to let go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> goodness gracious, guys. I have been waiting to write that whole scene for SO long!!! Hopefully you enjoyed it!! Let me know what you think!! 
> 
> schools starting on Monday, so I'm panic writing a whole bunch to get ahead of schedule and not fall behind on posting when I get busy! 
> 
> Anyone else doing a fully online semester and like, kinda bummed about it? I'm watching my mandatory orientation stuff and they're talking about the best places to eat on campus, how cool the gym is like :( Are you guys excited about school? Are you taking any super cool classes?? I'm doing a Greek and Roman Mythology course and I'm SO hyped. 
> 
> See yall next week (hopefully)!!!! -Oliver


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright folks, here's some more ANGST/FLUFF HAVE FUN 
> 
> SIDENOTE: i know jack shit about hospitals and med stuff, i just made this up, idk how it would actually work

Upon arrival at the tower, Peter had attempted to fall asleep at least seven times, each of which was woken by Tony, panicking and bringing up the still bloody head wound. Peter was not thrilled to be kept from sleep, and it was with great effort that he was kept awake the entire ride. 

Tony had spent the ride checking over whatever of Peter he could reach without letting go of the kid for a moment. From what he could see, Peter had angry red bands on his arms and legs from where he had been tied up. He looked thinner than he had only four days ago, and his eyes were weighed down with dark circles. The head wound had stopped bleeding, but Tony felt like throwing up every time he thought about it. 

_“He banged his head against the wall to get my attention.” Steve had said gravely, after Peter had gotten situated in the back of the car.“I’m honestly surprised the wound isn’t worse.”_

God, the kid had to have been so desperate to inflict that sort of harm unto himself. 

Guilt wandered through Tony’s mind like an old friend. Though a part of him knew that it wasn’t exactly his fault that Peter had been kidnapped, a much more belligerent part of him claimed far too loudly that he did not deserve the title of caretaker, much less… 

Dad. 

Peter had called him Dad. 

Tears filled his eyes, though they didn’t fall. Overwhelmed as he was with the sheer amount of joy the name had given him, he couldn’t help but fall prey to the spiteful and pessimistic part of his brain that firmly shook it’s head no to the question, ‘did he mean it?’. 

The kid had been panicking, starved, and exhausted; of course, he didn’t mean it. If he repeated the word after everything had (finally) calmed down, Tony decided to deal with it then. 

Tony shook off the memory, pressing a worried kiss to Peter’s head and willing himself not to let the tears fall as the car pulled into the garage. 

“Pete? We’re getting out now,” Tony gently shook Peter’s shoulder. “We need to go see some doctors to make sure you’re all good.” 

_Please be okay, please be okay._

“Mmm.” Peter moved his shoulder away from Tony’s hand. “No, thank you.”

“Yes, thank you.” Tony shook him again and Happy opened the door on Peter’s side. “Hap? Help?”

“Come on, kid. Don’t make me reach in there and get you.” Maybe it was the exhaustion or maybe the kid had missed Happy—either way, he slowly pushed himself to the edge of the seat and right to where Happy could help him up. Unfortunately, he pulled Tony with him, not letting go of his hand once. Tony scrambled out through Peter’s door, graceful as a newborn giraffe, but equally unwilling to let go of Peter, either. Peter leaned against Happy, letting go of Tony’s hand to get a solid grip on Tony’s upper arm, effectively pulling him even closer. For a moment, the three of them just breathed. 

The elevator dinged and Pepper appeared, along with Dr. Helen Cho and a small medical team, equipped with a gurney. Her eyes went up and she caught Tony’s. 

“Oh!” Pepper rushed towards the group. 

A part of Tony wanted to shove everyone away under the guise of “you’re crowding him!”, but his heart was warmed by his little family back together. Besides, Peter didn’t seem to mind Pepper. He just tipped his head down until it rested on her shoulder for a moment. Pepper pressed a kiss to his head, tears in her eyes when she looked back up at Tony. 

“Let's get him up here, shall we?” Helen nodded to the wheely bed. 

Peter, now surrounded by the medical team and his makeshift family, seemed to suddenly realize the number of people around him and went to back up, only to bump into Happy. His breathing picked up, trapped as he was, and he pushed back further, fighting feebly to get back in the quiet safety of the car. 

Tony’s heart ached upon hearing the smallest of whimpers, and it was enough to prompt him to place himself between Peter and the offending group of people, mostly blocking them from Peter’s view. 

“Pete? Kid, it’s me.” _Dad_. He intentionally softened his voice, though he knew that everyone around them could hear him all the same. “Hang on, it’s okay.”

Peter clung to him, shaken. “’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby.” Tony carefully held his kid close to himself, taking the brunt of his weight into his arms. “It’s okay, you’re safe here, remember? We’ve got you.” Tony, back to everyone but Happy, glanced up at his driver. Happy looked helpless and heartbroken, and Tony remembered how close he was with Peter. This had to be beyond hard for him to watch. “We’re okay, alright kiddo? We’re going to be okay.” It was a reassurance to everyone, though Tony knew the longer he held the boy, the longer it would be until he could get checked out by the medical staff. 

It took a few minutes—slow, but patient minutes—before Peter was calm enough for Tony to pull back. Happy and Tony helped him up to the bed and Helens’s team immediately started moving towards the elevators, leaving Tony to speed-walk beside the bed in order to continue holding Peter’s hand. 

The elevator up was tense and crowded. Happy, Pepper, and Tony all refused to leave Peter’s side, so they packed in like sardines. If Peter wasn’t so calm with the three of them there, Tony was convinced Helen would have kicked them all out. As it were, Peter lay still with Tony’s hand clutched tightly in his, his wide eyes bouncing between the three of them like he couldn’t quite believe that they were all there. Tony combed a hand through Peter’s hair and tried to ignore the ache in his heart. 

Upon reaching the medical wing, Tony was handed the unfortunate news that he would have to wait outside while the medical team checked Peter out. 

“Hold on—“

“Tony, I’m sure nothing is seriously wrong,”—Helen placed a hand up like he would try to push past her anyway—“but we need to do some x-rays and scans just in case. You can’t be in the room anyway.”

Tony knew that made sense. He didn’t want it to, but he knew that it did. “But I—I just—“ He was helpless. 

“Tony.” Helen was serious. “I won’t let anything happen to him. He’s going to be okay.”

Peter looked between the two of them, panic in his eyes, but as much as Tony expected him to protest, all he did was squeeze Tony’s hand tight. 

“ ’M okay, Tony. You heard her.”

So it was back to calling him Tony, then. It stung, but he shoved the hurt down deep to deal with later. There was something about Peter attempting to comfort him—_him—_when he was the one who was hurt that made him feel sick. 

“I’ll be right here when you’re done, okay, underoos?” Tony knew he had tears in his eyes. “Right here. I won’t move a muscle.”

Peter smiled at that. 

Pepper’s hand slipped into Tony’s as the med team wheeled Peter away. 

“He’ll be okay, honey,” Pepper whispered. 

Tony nodded. He was crying. 

“We’ll wait with you.” Happy offered, steering Tony to the waiting area and gently pushing him down onto a chair. 

“I lost him,” Tony whispered. “I let him out of my sight for a second and I lost him. I lost my kid.”

Pepper shook her head. “I’m sure he doesn’t see it like that. Besides, you found him, didn’t you?”

Tony shook his head. No, he hadn’t found his kid. He specifically had overlooked his kid. It had been Steve who had— 

Someone cleared their throat and the three of them looked up at the same time. It would have been funny had the circumstances been different. 

Steve stood in the doorway, looking as small and unsure as a 6’2 super-soldier could. 

Tony got to his feet. 

“Tony,” Steve started, “I just—“

But Tony hugged him. 

There was silence in the room as he clung tight to his old friend, knowing full well that tears still clouded his face and that he had never once hugged Steve so genuinely before. After a moment, Steve began to place his own arms around Tony, but the pushed down apprehension of being so close to the man who had almost killed him reared its ugly head and Tony suddenly pulled away. Still nervous. Still scared. 

But grateful. 

“Thank you.” He managed out. He had never seen Steve looking so damn stunned before. “Thank you for finding him.”

“Of course.” Steve’s voice was quiet. “Is he…will he be okay?”

Tony nodded and Steve looked relieved. 

“I’m glad. I’m sorry I scared him.” He did look genuinely sorry, and Tony wondered for a moment if they _would_ ever get back to the level of friendship that they had once had. “I probably made the situation worse, to be honest.” He paused. “Mike’s taken care of.”

“Good.” Tony bit out. 

“He was planning on holding him for ransom. Guess he hadn’t figured out a way to do it anonymously, so he just held onto Peter for a while until he figured it out.” Steve sounded and looked angry. “The man’s a fucking idiot.”

“Language.” The joke made it’s way out before Tony could think of stopping it, and he and Steve shared a shadow of a smile. 

The two of them stood for a moment in silence. It had been a long time since they had shared such a moment. 

“I should head back upstairs.” Steve broke the silence. “I need to talk to Fury about our probation, get out of your hair for good.”

Tony nodded. He didn’t argue. 

Steve hesitated before leaving. “Will you let me know when you get the all-clear that Peter’s okay?” He must have seen the hesitation in Tony’s face. “I won’t try to talk to him or see him or anything, I just…I’d like to know that he’s okay. Is that okay?”

Again, Tony nodded. 

Steve shot a wary smile to Happy and Pepper over Tony’s shoulder and left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay sooooooo i've had two (2) days of school so far and I'm already so totally overwhelmed with how MUCH it is. did my dumbass sign up for 6 classes, 3 of which are English so they require a few books EACH to be read this semester? yes. clown shit. 
> 
> SO I may be late in updating for a bit; I'll need to figure out a new writing schedule so I can keep working on this while being teachers pet for every single one of my professors. Also this probably has, like, 3 chapters left ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> thanks for your sweet sweet comments, as usual, y'all have made my day/week/month with your kind and frustrated words :D 
> 
> -Oliver


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we got some real sad boy hours coming up, my dudes, have fun

Peter had fallen asleep the moment Dr. Cho had confirmed that he could, barely managing to request seeing Tony and Pepper again before exhaustion took him under. 

When he woke, it was to a splitting headache and even cracking his eyes open resulted in an assault of light that had him physically flinching and squeezing his eyes shut again. 

“Peter?”

Pepper. 

The tension left when he heard her voice; _god_ he’d missed her. Not daring to attempt words around his scratchy throat, Peter reached a hand out blindly while keeping his eyes closed. She caught his hand easily with both of hers and Peter nearly cried on the spot at the pure love that seemed to glow from within at the casual gesture. 

“Hi, honey,” Pepper whispered, “Good morning. I missed you.”

The “I missed you” had Peter wrenching his eyes open to find her own sincere and sure and relieved. 

“I missed you too.” His throat still hurt, probably from those godawful screams he had forced out for what felt like years on end. He shivered. 

“Are you cold?” Immediately, Pepper was up and moving. “What’s wrong?” She still spoke softly. 

“Bright.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He couldn’t even take account of the room, terrified that she’d disappear if he looked away from her for a second.

She switched the light off. “Better?”

He nodded, reaching out again to hold her hand and pull her back to the chair beside the bed. She was beautiful under the florescent lights. Peter had figured that was humanly impossible, but he seemed to have been proved wrong.

Pepper sat down with a sigh. She held something in her eyes that nearly made Peter look away. She looked at him with love. 

And sitting in that hospital bed, holding her hand, Peter smiled. “I love you, Pepper.”

The love in her eyes grew. “I love you too, Peter Parker.” She kissed the back of his hand and reached out to gently touch his cheek. “I love you so much, my boy.”

Love. 

Oh, how he wanted to hold tight to that word—cherish it and hold it carefully in the palms of his hands. 

“What happened to Mike?” As hard as it was to break the peaceful bubble around them, Peter couldn’t hold back the question. “Did Captain America…” he swallowed hard and the air felt like a solid thing. “Did he…?” Images of Tony in that damn hospital bed flashed in his mind and suddenly Peter didn’t think he could stand the thought of Captain America having killed Mike, as much as Peter might have hated his neighbor. 

“Mike is alive.” The pure hatred in Pepper’s voice shocked Peter, though he didn’t know why. “He’s going to prison and he’s not coming out.” 

“Ever?”

Pepper studied him and he squirmed under her unrelenting gaze. “He hurt you, Peter. You’re in the hospital because of him.”

“I know.”

“He took you from us.”

“I left.” 

Pepper frowned. “What happened was not your fault. It was his fault.” 

Peter shrugged, though he felt anything but nonchalant, but Pepper was not impressed. 

“Hey.” He looked up from where he had begun to stare holes into the sheets. “I need you to understand this.”

“I do.”

“I don’t think you do.” She took his hands with hers. “It is not your fault that you were kidnapped. It is not your fault that he hurt you. It is not your fault.”

Peter nodded, suddenly unable to get any words out around the choked up feeling in his throat. 

“Good.” Satisfied, the woman sat back, though she still held Peter’s hands in hers. “Any more self-deprecating thoughts I can prove wrong?”

Peter smiled a little, slightly overwhelmed by the deep, caring attention. “I shouldn’t have trusted him.” 

“You didn’t know he would do this.” Pepper had a no-nonsense voice that no doubt was perfected after her years with Tony. “Tony said you’ve known him your whole life.”

“Which is why I should have known when something was off.” There was anger. “I should have known. I should have been able to tell he was going to…going to…Pepper why did he _do_ that?” 

And there were tears. 

A part of Peter was grateful that he could cry again, after spending so long unwillingly holding them back. Another part of him was frustrated at how often he now had reasons to cry. 

“Oh, honey.” Pepper held his cheek in her palm, her thumb brushing away the tears as they fell. “Honey, I know, it’s terrible what he did to you.”

_Tied up. Overwhelmed. Disoriented. Trapped. _

“Pepper, why did he hurt me?” Even to himself, Peter sounded like a child. “Why?”

“I…” For once, Pepper Potts was at a loss for words, but she composed herself quickly. “He was jealous. Once he saw you and Tony, he wanted in on the Stark fortune and went after you.”

“He didn’t come after me,” Peter said, dejectedly. “I walked right into his apartment.”

“Again, you did not know.” Pepper brought her hand away from his face as he calmed down. She gripped the railing of the bed with an intensity that Peter didn’t know she possessed. She was mad, but doing well in hiding it. “I guess he thought he could anonymously ask for a ransom.”

“But he didn’t, right?” _Because if Mike had asked, why hadn’t Tony and Pepper found him right away? _

“No.” Pepper’s laugh was sharp. “No, we found you before he could ask.” 

Peter nodded. That made sense. They hadn’t known where he was. “Would you have paid it?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay.” 

He was calmer and safe and surrounded by a peaceful quiet. She loved him. And Tony… 

“Pepper?” Suddenly, Peter was nervous. “Um, where’s Tony?”

For a moment, he allowed himself to think back to when Tony had practically disappeared from him only a little while ago. His heart clenched. He’d unloaded more emotional baggage onto Tony this time than he had when he’d jumped in front of the Avengers; Who’s to say Peter hadn’t scared him off with that one, goddamn word? 

Dad. 

But Pepper didn’t say anything. She just kissed Peter’s hand again and nodded to the other side of the hospital room. Another bed had been set up, partially obscured by a medically green curtain. Tony was curled up under a blanket that had obviously been added after he had fallen asleep. He faced Peter like he had fallen asleep waiting there. 

“Oh,” Peter’s heart was Atlas and it held the weight of love. “Oh.”

Tony looked exhausted. With how clouded Peter’s memory of the rescue was, he must have missed how run down the man had seemed. He hadn’t shaved and he looked like he’d been wearing the same Stark Industries hoodie for days. 

“He was really worried about you,” Pepper said quietly. “We both were.” Peter couldn’t bring himself to look away from Tony and just squeezed her hand. “He hasn’t slept a lot.” 

Peter nodded. He knew Tony needed sleep. He knew that, but for all the world, Peter wanted to stumble over and to just be _held _by him. 

“Pepper?” 

“Yes, honey?” 

Peter breathed deep. She had said that she loved him. “Will you, um, will you hold me?” It felt unbearably rude, asking her that while not even able to look away from Tony. 

“Of course.” 

She brought up the bed so that they could sit up and climbed on beside him, letting him lean against her with an arm around his shoulders. Peter relaxed. 

“He looks like he needed a lot of sleep.”

Pepper laughed. “We should instigate mandatory napping at SI.” 

“Tony wouldn’t listen.”

“I’m the CEO, I could make him.” 

“Make me do what?” Tony grumbled, stopping their conversation short. He had yet to open his eyes, but the words “I could make him” from Pepper seemed to have roused him enough. 

“Take naps,” Peter said, and Tony was up like a gun had gone off. 

“Peter!” 

Though still thoroughly sore and aching, being held so tightly unlocked something in Peter that had him desperately clinging to Tony, suddenly scared to let go. Half on and half off the bed, they were frozen in each other's arms. 

Peter was hyper-aware of his breathing, of Tony’s breathing, and of their hearts. Different patterns, but the longer they embraced, the more they matched up. 

“I’m never letting you out of the house again.”

Peter’s laugh was watery. “Okay.”

“I’m never letting you out of my _arms_ again.”

That had them all laughing through tears, awkward positions and all. 

*****

The three of them somehow managed to squeeze onto the bed, Peter sandwiched between the two Starks. 

They held him carefully, but steadily, not letting him believe for one second that they would stop before he pulled away first. It was a family embrace. They held him like he was their son. 

After the initial re-reunion—in which Tony had held Peter’s face and kissed his forehead with a tenderness that had made them both cry— Peter’s energy had dropped. Now content to hug Tony tight around the middle with Pepper playing with his hair, Peter closed his eyes, listening to them talk quietly about SI numbers and plans. 

He felt at home with Tony and Pepper, which was something that would have sent him reeling a few months before. 

A few months before, Peter had had an entirely different life. A few months before, Peter still had May. As he allowed himself to think about her, safe in the arms of Tony and Pepper, his heart ached, but it wasn’t the mind-numbing, hopeless kind of hurt that had been his constant companion recently. He missed her, more than anything, but for the first time, he imagined she’d be proud of him. 

Gone were the worries that she’d think he’d replaced her and Ben. May would be happy that he had found love. 

“—think he’s falling asleep.” Pepper. 

“Good. He looks worse than I do.” Tony laughed quietly when Pepper flicked his shoulder. “No, I know. He’s been through a lot.” 

“Too much.” Pepper agreed. 

Peter, who was decidedly on the brink of sleep, focused on staying awake. 

“…Hey, Pep?”

“Hm?”

Peter could hear the smile in Tony’s voice. “Think we should revisit the ‘should we have kids’ conversation?”

The two of them laughed and Peter decided that it was his new favorite sound. He couldn’t help the smile that formed and only grew when Pepper whispered a: “Tony, you woke him up!”

Tony laughed again. He sounded young. “Go to sleep, Pete.” 

“Y’should have kids.” Peter didn’t bother to open his eyes. “You’re good parents.” 

There was a pause, but for once, Peter didn’t overthink and jump to the worst conclusion. He was content, happy, and loved right where he was. 

“G’night, dad.” 

Tony exhaled a shaky breath, the hand that held Peter close to himself pulling him a little closer. Pepper laughed, kissing Peter on the head. 

“Your dad says goodnight, Peter.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am i getting carried away writing the hurt/comfort? yes. will i stop? no. 
> 
> i know i said i was going to be lowkey taking a break bc of school but I sat down last week and wrote this in like one sitting so who knows, maybe I'll stay consistent ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ also i haven't mentioned this in a hot minute, but disregard typos and ask me if you have questions or if something makes sense! i probably forgot about a lot of plotholes lmao 
> 
> thanks for reading!! as always, goddamn, your comments are so very sweet!! i love that I've lowkey gotten to know some people, i see your usernames and I'm like FRIEND!!! don't know your name or pretty much anything about you, but FRIEND!!! So until (maybe) next week, BYE FRIENDS HAVE A GOOD WEEK!!! :)


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy folks, we're almost done with this

Tony was loathe to leave Peter. 

Since getting his kid back, Tony had spent an entire 24 hours in that damn hospital room, not letting Peter out of his sight for longer than a bathroom run. He found that as soon as he couldn’t see Peter, he started to worry. It was like he suddenly lacked object permanence, convinced that Peter was gone for good the moment he stepped out of Tony’s line of sight. 

Pepper had left the two of them a few hours earlier to deal with a “PR disaster”. No one directly said it, but Tony could see Peter was feeling guilty about it. 

Peter. Feeling guilty for being kidnapped. 

Of course.

A small movement beside him roused Tony from his thoughts. He and Peter were jammed side by side on the bed, as tended to be their position lately. They didn’t _need _to be in the medical room anymore. Helen had cleared them hours earlier, but upon seeing Peter wince as a headache hit him, Tony had insisted on a little more time under surveillance. He knew that it was just a headache that came from a concussion, but the irrationally worried part of his mind wouldn’t allow him to brush it off. 

Peter was asleep—the poor kid was still catching up from the hours lost while being held hostage—but there was a frown on his face that looked like the beginning of a bad dream. 

“Pete.” Tony gently jostled Peter’s shoulder. “Hey, kid, you’re okay. Nothing to be scared of right now.” 

Peter frowned, but snuggled a little closer against Tony’s side. 

His heart ached. 

God, he loved this kid. Even if he still didn’t have the courage to say it out loud yet.

“Boss, you still haven’t answered Captain Rogers’ message. Should I tell him that you’re busy?” Friday had a smug air in her voice like she just _knew_ that Tony was putting off talking to Steve to cuddle Peter a little longer. 

Helpless, Tony glanced down at Peter, then at his phone lying on the little bedside table. Steve had texted him a few minutes earlier, asking to talk, and Tony had ignored it in favor of sitting in an awed silence as Peter trusted him to keep him safe. 

Parenting was confusing, Tony decided, and it was with that thought that he realized that he _did _think of himself as Peter’s parent. The word “dad” was still a lot to hold up, but parent seemed nice and generic. Was this what new parents felt like? Staring, rapt in admiration at the pure trust the kid put in them? Tony didn’t feel worthy, not yet, but goddamn was he going to work until he did. 

“Boss?”

“Shit, Fri, I’m getting to it, hang on.” Without waking Peter, Tony strained to reach the phone; it had been quite a long time since he’d completely forgotten to have it at the ready. He had been content just sharing a space with the kid. Upon opening it, Tony frowned. 

There were messages from Pepper, Happy, and even Rhodey asking about Peter, as well as a few missed calls from the latter two. Emails had piled up during the 24 hours he had been away from his phone as well, but he didn’t even glance at them as he opened Steve’s message. 

_Steve: Hey, Tony. I’ve talked with Fury and explained the situation. I did not mention Peter. Fury is finding another place for us to stay, so we should be gone within the next day or so. _

Then there was a pause of a few minutes before the next message had been sent. 

_Steve: I hope Peter is doing well. I’m sorry for scaring him. _

Then another few minutes. 

_Steve: Tony, I wonder if we can talk in person before I leave. I understand if your answer is no, and I won’t push you on it, but I would like to at least attempt to apologize. Let me know. _

Tony sighed. The messages had been sent over 12 hours ago, but Steve would have texted again if he were leaving. 

“Fri, are the others still in the building?”

She knew who he was talking about. “Yes, boss.” 

Peter shifted and Tony wrapped his arm more securely around the kid’s shoulders, continuing in a quieter voice. “And Steve?”

Friday lowered her voice as well. “In his room, packing.”

Another sigh. Steve was right, they couldn’t part ways without talking first. As much as he hated to admit it, Tony wasn’t quite sure if he’d be able to handle such a clean break from the team. He needed closure. 

“Fri, get Happy up here, please.”

“Yes, boss.” 

And now…

“Hey, kid, wake up.” Tony poked at Peter’s face, careful not to be too rough. “Wake up, baby, I gotta go real quick.” 

As much as he hated waking Peter up when he so desperately needed sleep, Tony knew it would be a million times worse if Peter woke up alone. 

As it were, Peter wasn’t happy about being woken up. He lazily waved Tony’s hand off, grumbling something under his breath. Tony laughed. 

“Wake up, wake up, wake up.” There was something easy and joyous about the moment. Tony knew that he could, if he wanted to, hug the kid. He could tease him and mess up his hair and treat him like his _kid_. It was a wonderful feeling. 

Upon waking up, the bad mood was gone. Peter smiled, all sunshine and blue skies, though considerably more reserved than Tony. “Why’d you wake me up?”

Suddenly, Tony did not want to go see Steve. “I got a meeting I need to get to.” He said it casually, so as not to let Peter know how much he dreaded not having the kid in his sights. “I’ll be back soon, though.”

Peter nodded, and Tony hated that the smile that had been there only seconds before was gone. “You’re going to talk to…to—“

“Steve. Yeah.”

Peter nodded. “I figured.” He straightened his shoulders and sat up a little. “Alright, let’s go.”

“What?” Tony shook his head. “Nope. You’re staying here. _I’m _going to talk to Steve.”

“Remember what happened last time you did that?” The instant the words were out, Peter’s eyes went wide. It was like he could see the stake of hurt that jabbed its way through Tony’s heart at the reminder of his mistakes. Unsure how to handle the sudden change in atmosphere, Peter barreled on. “Anyway, I’m feeling better anyway. We didn’t even _need_ to stay here this long—“

“Peter, I know you want to help, but you’re not going anywhere. I already called Happy up to keep you company and I’ll only be an hour, tops—“

“But I want to go—“

“I am _not_ putting you in danger again. Period. Okay?”

Peter didn’t have an answer for that. He looked at Tony in a way that suggested he could see right through him. He looked sad. “Okay.” He said, “I’ll stay here.” And Tony believed him. 

“Thank you.” He was able to breathe and he put a hand against Peter’s cheek. “I just really need you to be safe right now.”

Peter’s smile was back, though considerably smaller. “I _am_ safe right now.”

“Boss? Captain Rogers—”

“Oh my god, Friday, read the room.” Tony groused, but it made Peter laugh. “Tell him I’m on my way up. Where’s Hap?” 

“Down the hall, boss.”

Tony nodded. “Great.” He turned to Peter. “You gonna be okay for a bit?”

Peter pulled in a deep breath. He looked unsure and a little nervous, but he nodded. “Happy’s gonna be here the whole time, right?”

“Right. Your own personal bodyguard.” 

“And you’ll be back as soon as you’re done?”

It broke Tony’s heart that the kid was still scared. After what he’d been through, though, Tony figured a paranoid teenager was one of the better outcomes. 

“As soon as I’m done.” 

Peter nodded. “Then yes, I’ll be okay.”

*****

Steve had suggested they meet in the common area, a neutral zone. Tony had agreed, though it was mostly to hurry the process along. He needed to get this over with. That’s how the two of them ended up seated at the dining room table, each with a glass of apple juice in hand. 

“Why the juice?” Steve had asked. Tony, quite unwilling to recount his unfortunate run-in with whiskey and bottled up emotions, just shrugged. Steve didn’t need to hear about his failures as a parent. About how he had emptied every single bottle he could find the moment he could. About the guilt that still lived in his heart. 

“Can’t go wrong with apple juice.” Tony said, “What did Fury have to say?”

Steve sighed and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms out in front of him. Lord, he was a large man. “I told him that the living situation wasn’t working out. Tensions from the past few years running high, still.”

Tony nodded. That was true. “You didn’t say anything about Peter?”

“No.” Steve’s voice was firm. “Not a word. As far as Fury knows, the kid doesn’t exist. Last thing Peter needs is that asshole breathing down his neck.”

“Thank you.”

“Tony, I don’t deserve your thanks.”

For a moment, the two of them didn’t speak. The table seemed to groan under the weight of everything they didn’t say, straining under apologies and tears and fury and fear. 

Tony spoke first. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to move past what happened.”

What happened. 

“Yeah.” Steve just nodded. “Yeah.” 

“I just…Steve, I—“

“You don’t have to explain anything.” Steve’s fingers tapped against the glass in his hand. His eyes held something sad, but Tony didn’t spare the time to figure out what it was. “I understand. Honestly, I wouldn’t trust me in your position either, much less around a kid.” 

Helplessly and nervously, Tony sipped from his glass. 

“Look,” Steve started, “I know that this will probably mean nothing to you and I’m not expecting you to accept it, but I truly am sorry.”

“You were protecting your friend,” Tony said. He hated that he still made excuses for the people who had hurt him. 

“I also _hurt_ my friend.” And Steve looked truly remorseful. He looked crushed. “I betrayed you and I almost killed you.” 

Tony nodded, eyes on the glass in his hand and willing himself not to cry. 

“I’ve thoroughly disrupted your life.” He continued, “I intruded on your home and I’ve caused you pain and I’ve scared your kid—“ He shook his head, and Tony chanced a glance up. Steve’s eyes were wet and his hands had abandoned the glass of juice, now clasped tightly together on his lap. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” 

“Tony, I’m _sorry_.”

“You found my kid, Cap. You saved him. You brought him home.” 

Steve nodded. 

“I know you’re sorry.” There was no forgiveness, but there was understanding. It was the best Tony could offer. “I understand why you did it.” 

Steve’s shoulders slumped and Tony found sick satisfaction in reducing the super soldier to an apologetic mess. He watched as Steve gathered himself, taking in a deep breath, before sitting up straighter. 

“We’ll be gone in a few hours, then.” He said, and Tony only nodded. “I’m glad that Peter is doing well.” He hesitated. “I’m glad I got to meet him. Even if he hates my guts.” 

Tony laughed a little at that. “He’s protective.” 

Steve stood and Tony copied him. For a brief moment, they just stood there. Then Steve rounded the table and held out a hand to Tony. Tony shook it. 

As Steve was about to leave, Tony spoke up. “Hey.”

Steve turned. 

“Don’t get rid of that phone.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. If you need us, we’ll have your back.” 

Tony wasn’t entirely sure why he’d said it. As he watched Steve leave the room, possibly for the last time, he realized how far the two of them had come. And though they may not be on the best of terms, Tony found that he couldn’t quite bear the thought of losing Steve for good. 

Conflicted, exhausted, but satisfied, Tony finished his apple juice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYO GOT SOME SWEET SWEET CLOSURE HAPPENING!! 
> 
> i can't believe this is almost over??? I have like one chapter left after this??? It's so weird because I've gotten to know you guys (as your usernames) but whenever I see a comment I'm like FRIEND!! pretty cute. also hot damn i don't think this would have gotten as long as it did WITHOUT the comments, so my goodness thank you for those!! they literally make my DAY and i know i say that a lot but seriously, y'all are so sweet. 
> 
> if I don't update next week, it's probably because i got arrested for (rightfully) slapping this JAKE character from my mythology class, but I should be updating on time. 
> 
> I hope you guys have an absolutely wonderful week and hopefully you're all staying safe (AND WEARING MASKS!!!! WEAR YOUR MASKS!!!). 
> 
> -oliver


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, friends, here we go, LAST CHAPTER!!
> 
> (don't fully know how to make it say that the fic is completed, any insight is appreciated)

It had been Pepper who had brought up the idea of a makeshift funeral. 

Peter had been out of the medical wing for almost a week, and though the physical pain was gone, there was still a lot to work through. Namely, Peter and Tony’s attachment issues, some pretty serious trust issues on Peter’s part, and (of course), some serious guilt over missing the funeral. The three of them had been spending every spare minute together, and Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t love it. He felt seen and cared for, and it was addicting. Pepper would come through the door after a meeting and throw herself down on the couch beside Peter, pulling off her heels and demanding Peter turn up whatever it was that he was watching. Tony, to use his words, “didn’t really work”, so he ended up spending that much more time with Peter. It was understood that Tony needed Peter around just as much as Peter needed Tony, so Peter didn’t bother questioning it. 

His days were full of casual touches, kisses on the forehead, routine goodnights, and more snacks than he knew what to do this. It was a shift, but a welcome one. 

Still, he was thrown off when Pepper mentioned the cemetery. 

“Why don’t we visit may tomorrow?” Pepper’s question had Peter dropping his fork in surprise. 

“What?”

Pepper shrugged. “Do you want to bring her flowers or something?” 

Perhaps it was how casually she brought up the subject, but Peter just nodded, realizing that he really _did_ want to go see May. There was no time to agonize over not having visited her yet, no time to let himself wallow in feelings. His answer was yes, and Pepper just nodded before going back to her food. 

“Awesome. Let us know what you want to do.”

He didn’t miss the grateful look Tony gave Pepper when they thought Peter wasn’t looking. Peter hid a smile as he realized that Tony hadn’t wanted to be the one to bring it up and had instead coerced Pepper to do it. 

Peter bumped his elbow fondly against Tony’s, almost as a thank you, but didn’t bother to look up from his food. It was enough. 

*****

It was sunny when they visited the cemetery. Peter hadn’t been for a few months, and even then it had been rare. He tried to visit Ben and his parents as often as he could, but life seemed to get in the way most of the time. He hoped that now that all of them were there, he’d be able to visit more often. Oh, that was a bleak thought. 

They had decided on a less formal funeral, as Peter had claimed May had hated the formality of Ben’s. Instead, they brought a blanket, some snacks, and about half a shop’s worth of flowers. 

As they approached the headstones, Peter’s heart began to ache. God, he hadn’t even processed the fact that he’d _missed_ May’s funeral. He hadn’t heard the nice words that everyone had to say about her, he hadn’t stood up and spoken about her himself. How could he have done that to her? For a moment, there was a small fear that seeing May’s grave would only make the guilt worse, but he knew that the longer he put off the inevitable, the worse it would get. Better to let the dam break today than let it accumulate more water behind it. 

He stared down at the four matching headstones, each with the same shape and font, standing beside each other. His family. 

For an odd moment, Peter felt like an outsider. He was the only one left—the only _Parker_ left—and it was a damn lonely thought. He had outlived his whole family and now he stood, alone, in front of their graves. 

“Pete?” Tony put a hand on his shoulder. “How are we feeling?”

Peter pulled in a shaky breath and nodded. “Good. We’re feeling good.” 

“Are you?” Tony had gotten so perceptive since Peter had first met him. A year ago, the man would have most likely taken the answer at face value and moved on. Now, his eyes held a question and his hand rested against Peter’s back, like he was ready to catch him if he fell. 

Peter looked up at him and knew that Tony could see the sadness in his eyes. He smiled though, and it was genuine. “Yeah.”

Tony nodded, and pressing a small kiss to Peter’s head, he went back to help Pepper set up the picnic. 

They’d brought lunch, drinks, a blanket—one would have never guessed what they were doing. It was an unconventional funeral, but Peter figured May would have preferred this to a stuffy, formal speech. 

The three of them set up the blanket in front of the four headstones, Tony handing out cans of iced tea and sandwiches from May’s favorite bodega as they settled down. 

“Well,” Tony started. “First family picnic?” 

Pepper reached over and smacked Tony in the arm, but Peter only choked on his drink, stifling a laugh. 

“Tony, that’s disrespectful.” Pepper hissed, but she hid a grin. Peter suspected it was only because he had laughed. They seemed all too thrilled when he did that these days. “Peter, how are you feeling?”

Along with the rejoicing of a simple smile, the level of attention that Peter now received from them had gone through the roof. That’s not to say that there was in any way a _small_ amount of attention being paid to him before, but ever since the incident with Mike, the two were practically helicopter parents. 

Peter suspected that it would get old after a while, but for now, he reveled in the love they freely gave him. 

“I think I’m okay, right now.”

“Is it because of the sandwich?” Tony asked, “Because I don’t know _why_ I’ve been wasting my time with all this high-end cuisine nonsense.”

“It’s good isn’t it?” Peter peeled back the wrapper to his own sandwich. “And no, I’m okay right now, but I don’t have a reason why.” 

“Closure?” Pepper offered. 

“Maybe.” 

They finished eating in relative silence; they all knew a sort of somber goodbye on Peter’s part was approaching, though none said it out loud. When they finished, Tony cleaned up the food trash while Pepper helped Peter place the baskets full of flowers around the graves. 

_Richard and Mary Parker — Loving parents, Taken Too Soon_

_Ben Parker — Beloved Husband, Brother, and Uncle _

_ May Parker — Wife, Aunt, And So Much More_

Peter had chosen the engraving. It had been during one of his worse days, when he could barely leave his bed, much less interact with people. But Tony had asked him a few days before and Peter, driven by grief and love, had scribbled the words out on a piece of notebook paper. He had shoved the paper into Tony’s hands and hidden for the rest of the day, fearing that he had solidified losing her even more. 

Now, as he stood in front of the collection of words—most of which he had read a million times over—Peter felt overwhelmed again.

Peter bit his lip as he looked at the matching graves. He was suddenly struck by the realization that that, right there, was his entire family. 

“They’re all gone.” The words came out quiet, but steady. “They’re all gone.” He stood, clutching the bouquet of lilies—May’s favorite—and staring at the stones. Richard, Mary, Ben, May. Gone.“Pepper?” 

“Right here, honey.” She held his hand. 

“They’re all gone.” 

She squeezed his hand, then pulled it up to kiss. “I know.” 

Peter leaned against her for a moment, allowing her to help hold him up. A moment later, he hugged her, tight. 

“Tony?” He felt her voice. “Our boy needs a hug, get over here.” 

Another pair of arms encircled him and Peter let more of his weight go, trusting that they would hold him up. 

“We got you.” _Tony_. “You can let go, baby, we got you.” 

Only a few tears fell, disappearing into the grass below them. Soon after, Pepper, Tony, and Peter followed, allowing gravity to pull them down to their knees in the grass. Peter's knees were cold and wet from the ground, but his mind didn’t stay on the inevitable grass stains that he’d get on his jeans. All he focused on was the warm feeling of _family_ around him. 

Clinging tight to the Starks. Peter looked up from the ground and took in the sight of his family’s graves, lovingly adorned with flowers of all colors. It made his heart hurt, but the ache was soothed by the dual sound of heartbeats on either side of him. 

“Hey, Ben.” He whispered. “Mom and Dad. May.”

Tony and Pepper went still as they listened, not moving an inch. Peter could practically feel them holding their breaths. 

He exhaled. “I’m sorry I missed the funeral.” It didn’t capture the great, expansive feelings that brewed in him, but it was a start. “I know you hate funerals and all that stuff, but this one was yours and I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m, uh, I’m sure everyone said really nice things about you.” 

He glanced up and Tony and Pepper, but they looked just as lost as he felt. For whatever reason, he had forgotten that _they’d _missed the funeral as well. 

“And I’m sorry I haven’t visited you yet.” Peter kept going, though the words began to grow spikes and prick his throat as they made their way out. “I wanted to, but things kept happening and then M-Mike happened”—Tony and Pepper held him a little bit tighter—“and then I was stuck in the hospital for a long time.” He pulled in a breath, feeling his lungs fill up again. Then empty. Then fill up. 

Pepper rubbed a hand up and down his back. The three of them settled more on the grass, even though the blanket was only a few feet away and Tony and Pepper were wearing considerably expensive clothes.They only rearranged themselves around Peter so that they could support him and let him see the graves at the same time. 

“Oh, May,” Peter said, taken aback by how hopeless his own voice sounded. “May, I miss you. I miss the apartment and I miss our TV and I miss my _room_. God, and the kitchen? I miss—I miss your terrible cooking.” That made Tony laugh. “And I miss the way you would sing while you cooked, and how someday, you’d go to Italy.” He sniffed, wiping away tears that had somehow begun to fall without him noticing. “I miss your hugs, May. I miss the way you would hold me and make me feel like everything was okay. And the way you’d try to get me to watch those terrible romance movies with you? And…and…” And what? What else was there to say? Peter leaned against Tony and Pepper. “I miss you, May.”

*****

The cemetery was empty, save for them. Peter wasn’t sure what he would have done if reporters caught wind of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts comforting a crying teenager at a cemetery in the middle of the day. As it were, they were unbothered. 

Peter had cried, held tightly until the tears had ceased, and then calmed. Tears tended to strike like lighting after everything that had happened. One moment he was fine, and the next he was gasping for breath as he mourned the loss of his family. It was exhausting. 

Now though, Peter allowed himself to relax. They had returned to the picnic blanket, Tony pressing a pre-packed water bottle into his hands with an order to rehydrate. 

Peter leaned back on his elbows and shut his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun gently pressing against his face and the cool grass through the blanket on his elbows. Tony and Pepper held up a conversation and he lay down under it, allowing their words to settle over him like a blanket. He was comfortable and he was safe. 

Peter turned his head to face the headstones, opening his eyes a little to see them. As morbid as it may have seemed, Peter took comfort in his family being there. All of them, this time Tony and Pepper included. Every parental figure—though he’d had more than most—all together. 

Tony’s hand rested on Peter’s ankle as he and Pepper talked, the slight breeze rustling through a nearby tree and stirring the leaves up into a conversation. Peter laid down fully. 

“Pete? You okay?”

Peter nodded and felt Tony gently pat his leg in response. 

He was okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy HOWDY I can't believe we're DONE! I've been writing this for months, longer than the pandemic has been around??? and I'm done????? incredible. wild. 
> 
> I absolutely love that I got to know some people, that I got to make some friends and actually TALK to some of y'all and oh my goodness I'm actually going to miss you???? Some people have been commenting on every chapter and it blows my mind that you'd CARE enough to do that. Very much appreciated, though. I hope you know that every comment left made my day/week/month<333
> 
> Also, I realize that I hadn't really FULLY started to come out to people about being *trans* when I started this!! wild!!
> 
> I'm planning another long fic, but as school is kicking my ass, that probably won't happen for a bit. 
> 
> So I guess goodbye! It's been a JOY to get to know you and write for you! Love you!! 
> 
> -Oliver


End file.
